American Konoha 2 (Alt Universe Story)
by TheFemaleReviewer
Summary: Remember the first American Konoha? Well, this story is a 'prequel' to that! Instead of Naruto and Sasuke, we've got Hashirama and Madara! Follow the 10th graders in America during the Vietnam War Era as they struggle with understanding their growing feelings for each other and the insane world around them. But that's not all... The ending's a shocker! HashiMada/MadaHashi
1. Chapter 1

**American Konoha 2: Year 1974**

Author's Note: This little number is a 'prequel' to the first 'American Konoha', which told the story of Naruto and Sasuke and relationship if they lived in America with us in 2014. You don't have to read the first story to enjoy this one because they are only very 'loosely' connected to each other. But this story is set during the Vietnam War Era and it follows a budding 'yaoi' relationship between Hashirama and Madara. Because of a lack of known characters in their storyline, I've compressed Hiruzen Sarutobi/Danzo Shimura's age group with theirs, so you'll see characters from their generation as well! I really hope you like it! I put my HEART and SOUL into this one. Literally.

**Hashirama Senju**

**Meeting Him**

"Hey, are you listening to me or what?" He asked, snapping his fingers rudely.

I blinked, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of me.

"I know detention is boring but I didn't think you could lose your mind over it." He went on.

It wasn't that I was spacing out. I was just thinking. Most of what I was thinking about stemmed from his outfit. I hadn't noticed it when I was sitting in class with him earlier that day, most likely, because I was only in there for all of two and a half seconds. But it intrigued me then because, like most of the other kids at school, he wasn't wearing bellbottoms or anything that looked even slightly psychedelic. He was wearing shorts just like I was, which is the kind of thing you can get in trouble for on the first day of school. However, I wasn't the one sitting in detention on the first day of school. He was. I just got dragged into it...

"You look different." I said, beginning to smile. "So, I was just thinking that your Mom probably doesn't pick out your clothes."

He seemed to mentally take a step back. It made him shut up pretty quickly at least.

"So, either your Mom's doesn't give a damn what you do or you're a rebel." I continued. "And from how you acted earlier..."

I trailed off, not needing to verbally say that my second assertion was right and he was probably a rebel...or at least _thought _he was.

He cocked his head, giving me a tough-guy glare.

"Gee wiz, so I guess you're gonna just write my whole government out on a sheet of paper now, huh?" he asked.

It probably the first time in my life I'd heard someone sound that sarcastic and rude in the same sentence. I couldn't do anything except laugh.

How the hell did I end up in detention on the first day of class anyway...

It was hard to remember. I certainly hadn't planned on it, that was for sure. The morning had started out pretty normal... With Itama complaining as usual...

My younger brother craned his neck to the side as I racked my brain, trying to remember how to tie a tie.

"I don't get why we have to go to a new school." Itama muttered. "It's so bogus."

Tobirama whipped his tie around messily, bent on proving that he didn't need any help.

"We have to, Itama." Tobirama told him. "We're taking school buses now."

"Anybody ever notice how those buses look a lot like prison buses?" I asked.

Tobirama rolled his eyes at me.

"It's a _bus_, Hashirama. They _all _look like that."

"But don't the kids going in them just _look_ like they're going to jail?" I asked, grinning at him.

Itama sighed heavily, accidently knocking my hand and making me have to start the loop all over again.

"But I'm really gonna miss all my old friends from L.F Elementary School." He moaned.

"Well, now we go to NorthSide Konoha Junior High." Tobirama said. "Don't be such a spaz."

At the sight of Itama's bottom lip beginning to wobble for about the fiftieth time since we found out we'd be changing schools, Tobirama softened and pat him on the shoulder.

It was obvious to the both of us that the main reason Itama was so nervous was that it had taken him almost the entire time he was at the last school just to make the one friend he had. It was really heavy, but there was nothing any of us could do. Our entire state had to abide by the new busing system. It was the only way the government could think to fully "disintegrate racial barriers".

"Well, look at the bright side Itama." I said to him as I finished tying his necktie for him. "Integrating schools is a lot better than the separate but equal crap they had before. Maybe you could make a friend out of a colored boy?"

Itama raised his tearful dark brown eyes to me. The ones we'd both gotten from our father.

"Dream on, Hashirama." He said.

"Are you boys still in there!?" a voice called.

We all looked up, standing to attention as she sashayed her way into the room wearing a prim and pressed gray skirt with a dark red blouse. She had her wavy white hair pulled into an over the shoulder ponytail as she raised her eyebrows at us.

"Those buses are gonna be outside any minute now!" she frowned, watching Tobirama struggle with his tie. "Give it here."

He yanked his neck away from her.

"I can do it!"

She sighed, raising her hands exasperatedly.

"Fine." She said, pushing him out of the bedroom we all shared together. "Go on."

I moved out of the way as she gripped the handles of Itama's wheelchair and pushed him out of the room straight into the living room of the two-bedroom apartment we had.

"Alright, boys, you're riding two different buses. Tobi, you're going to ride the bus with the wheelchair lift with Itama. The bus stop is right out front."

His face exploded into that of disbelief.

"What?!" he exclaimed. "But that bus has a bunch of retards on it!"

She slapped Tobirama in the back of his head, but not nearly as hard as she should've...

"Don't be such a spaz, Tobi." I joked, mocking him.

He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the handles of Itama's wheelchair.

"Don't forget about Little League tryouts today, Mom." Tobirama said as he walked out. "I've been practicing all summer for it."

But I doubted she was listening, she had her hands in the garbage can picking through the trash, most likely because she accidently threw her keys away...again. When she found them, she tossed them onto the counter and then, after standing there with a blank expression for like twenty minutes, emotion exploded onto her face and she suddenly jumped up.

"Wait, wait! Don't forget your lunches!" She exclaimed.

She ran to the refrigerator, pulled out two brown paper bags and handed it to me.

"Here, go after them, please!"

"Sure, but Hisa...?"

She turned as she was headed toward the back of the house where the station wagon was.

"Not wearing shoes today?" I asked, grinning.

She looked down at her bare feet and smacked her forehead.

"Ah! Thanks! It's just that...you know, the next couple of months at the hospital are gonna be a bit stressful for me. All those radiation complaints, you know? It's like the gates of hell over there. And all those odd hours. " she said this as she ran to the backdoor and slipped a pair of black heels on which clicked firmly against the wooden floor. "Not to mention the night job I just got in the town over..."

She muttered on about something else, continuing to walk toward the backdoor which led into our one-car garage.

"And Hisa...?" I said again.

She turned, breathlessly. "Yeah?"

I continued grinning as I picked the keys up off the counter top.

"Jeepers Creepers! I was going to forget that, too?" she exclaimed, white hair swinging as she ran over. "God, Hashirama, what would I do without you?"

It's not like Hisa was a bad Mother or anything, she just always had her brain a million different places after she had to get two jobs.

She threw her arms around me in a deep hug and then stuffed her hand into her pocket.

"And oh, oh, before I forget, here's lunch money. Now, hurry! Before their bus leaves!"

I nodded as she tenderly cupped my cheek in her hand.

"And _please_ don't make any trouble at school today, Hashirama. I _really _won't have time to pick you up from detention."

It was just my luck, really, the woman couldn't remember her own damn keys and somehow she never seemed to forget to scold me.

I smiled widely.

"I promise, Hisa, no fake." I said, crossing my heart.

She gave me one of her rare stern looks and nudged me in the direction of the front door. I walked out, deciding it would just scatter her brain more if I reminded her that Tobirama didn't want to eat home lunches anymore anyway.

I caught my younger brothers just as the bus pulled around the corner and gave them the brown paper bags. Tobirama took one look in the bag and the look on his face almost had me on the way to a hospital, dying of laughter.

"She forgot the sandwich _again_." He muttered. "What the heck kind of lunch doesn't have a _sandwich_?"

"Yeah, yeah... Next time make your own." I told him.

Because high school started later than junior high, I had some time to spare before my bus came. I watched Tobirama get on with Itama to make sure he didn't shine it off at the last second. Tobi wasn't a mean kid or anything but he was going to the eighth grade, that year in life where you'd even shine off your disabled baby brother if it meant it'd make you look rad.

I walked away from the bus stop, crossing my drive way again just as Hisa backed up. She glanced at me, seeming to really look at me for the first time and shook her head.

"What in God's name are you wearing?" she asked me.

I sighed over-dramatically.

"Stop dippin' in my Kool-Aid, Hisa!" I exclaimed, more for comedic purpose than actually being upset by it.

Her expression only turned more incredulous as the seconds passed.

"What happened to those KickFlares I bought you?" She finally inquired.

I laughed.

"They're bellbottoms, Hisa, and I let Tobirama wear them." I said.

I didn't really like those style of jeans too much, even though basically everyone in the entire country had at least three pairs. I was kind of short for someone going to the tenth grade. I was just slightly taller than Tobirama who was a good two and a half years younger than me, so I preferred clothes that didn't make my height look more obvious.

She shook her head and continued backing down the drive-way.

"Whatever, Hashirama... You want to look like a hippie, fine with me..." She muttered, whipping the wagon down the road.

That was another good thing about Hisa. Even though she got on my case for the most obnoxious things, at the end of the day, she didn't really give a damn what I did either way. I could walk around with the McDonalds golden arches stapled to forehead and she would have probably told me to "Get real" but would've let me do it anyway.

It only took me around five hours to find the high school bus stop after I realized Hisa forgot to tell me where the stop was. I just barely got there in time before it pulled off.

Everyone around me were people I didn't recognize but, strangely, most of them seemed to know each other really well. I had a group of pretty close friends at my old school but we were all pretty certain we'd never see each other again after being sent to different districts. I didn't really take it too much to heart though. My old friends didn't really mirror my outlook on life well. For one thing, they all mostly spent their Saturdays passing cocaine laced weed around a bong or coming up with new ways to "fuck the establishment"...like streaking down the main road.

I glanced out of the window, suddenly very interested as I watched a line of protesters walk by.

An old man held up a sign that said:

"END VIETNAM NOW..."

A college-aged looking girl held up another sign next to him saying:

"OR WE'RE ALL FUCKED!"

I snickered.

Geez, that was another thing. Every day there was something new about all these protestors.

"Damn, hippies..." a kid in the seat in front of me said.

He frowned as he pressed his nose against the window, his dark brown hair fell over his face.

"If I had my Dad's pistol, I bet I could pick 'em all off in like...five seconds."

A boy in a seat further up laughed.

"Dream on, Danzo!" He told him.

My snickering expression faded away.

And then there were assholes like him who spent their time hating on the only interesting thing going on in that city.

But fast-forward to how I actually ended up having to stay for an hour after school on the first day of class. It was one of the biggest high school buildings in the district, rightly so, so it took me about six weeks just to find my damn home-room. And then, only by God's grace, the teacher had just started. I walked in looking like clearest new student a deer in headlights ever saw.

"Excuse me." the teacher said.

And just by that one sentence, I knew I was going to have a rough time.

"Sorry, it's just that this school is like three times the size of Jupiter and I would've looked like a square carrying a map so I chucked it." I told him.

Some of the kids in the class snickered.

The teacher blinked at me, completely unimpressed.

"Tardiness is not accepted in this classroom." He said, then, after staring at me with his glasses lowered on his nose for like five hours, he finally took out his record book.

"Your name is?" he asked.

"Hashirama Senju." I replied. "I know, it's pretty trippy, but I promise, my parents are both narcs."

The class practically exploded with laughter at that one until he looked up, giving them that angry death glare, and everyone whipped into silence quick as lightning.

He ticked my name off and pointed to a chair.

"Sit, please."

I took my backpack, walking toward a chair in the second row. A kid with black hair had his feet in the chair and moved them as I got close. He was staring at me pretty hard so I grinned at him as I sat down.

"Sup."

He stared at me for a moment longer and then turned his head forward, opting to say nothing.

"Okay, class, I am... Mr. Uzumaki." He said, writing his name out on the board. "And this is your homeroom, or better known as, 10th Grade Civics."

He walked center to the class, and leaned back against his desk.

"In some of my earlier classes, I got criticized by my students for being too harsh or serious." He said.

"I never would've guessed..." I mumbled.

"And well..." he said, seeming to seriously ponder it. "I suppose there were a couple of incidents where the entire class was sitting in detention for about three or four hours after school..."

Everyone's facial expressions quickly lapsed into despair.

"But because of effectiveness, I devised a new plan this year. We're doing a buddy system. Meaning, instead of everyone in the class being responsible for everyone else, you're only responsible for one person. The person to your left."

Everyone looked left. And, of course, because the black haired kid was sitting next to a wall, he had to look right, which he didn't, probably because he didn't want to make eye contact with me, but it was clear he was my "buddy".

The teacher began droning on about other things, mainly protocol, what to do if he's not in class for some reason, how to act if he leaves momentarily, what we should read if he doesn't directly assign homework... Boring crap all teacher talk about to save their own asses. I glanced over at the black haired kid sitting at his desk discreetly drawing fighter planes on his notebook cover and making explosion sounds as he drew each of them letting off their cargo.

Through the window behind him, I could see City Hall in plain sight, there were tents around, doing a bit more than symbolizing the people who had probably been protesting there all night long. A couple of American Flags waved outside of the school in the wind, the ones in front of City Hall were torn...

"...Such as World War II, the war to end all wars, or even the war we're in now, the Vietnam War. Now, does anyone know why we're in the Vietnam war?"

I was surprised to see the black haired kid look up from his doodles and slowly raise his hand.

"Yes?" Mr. Uzumaki asked.

He hesitated for a moment, very strangely, glancing over at me before he finally replied.

"To stop the spread of communism."

"Good job, Madara. A plus for you." He said, nodding at him. "Now, as I'm sure you're all aware, communism..."

He wrote the word out on the board.

"Is sinful, spiteful, and evil!" he told us, as he crossed the word out in a big X. "And for all intensive purposes we'll never use that word or even mention the people who worship that horrid way of thinking ever in this classroom."

He adjusted his tie which had gone awry with the vigor with which he spoke.

"We are Americans! That means many things but first and foremost it means that we are the saviors... The peacekeepers of the world..." he walked around all of the desks, looking at us intently. "So, we must! I repeat, must! Save the rest of the developing, third world from making mistakes as evil and devilish as succumbing to communism, now-"

"That's not right." A voice spoke up.

Everyone slowly turned to my direction. I followed their eyes, turning to look at him, the same boy sitting against the wall next to the window. He was gripping his pencil, giving Mr. Uzumaki a hard stare-off.

"We're in war because we're all idiots."

"Excuse me?" he asked.

I hated the way adults always talked to kids like there was no way in hell we ever could be on his plane of thinking. Get off your high horse.

"We're murdering people who are trying to achieve peace the same way we are." He mumbled.

Seeing that half of the class probably hadn't heard him, he raised his voice.

"Going to war to prevent the spread of communists, is like killing people for banning guns to stop school shootings. What's the point if we're all shooting for the same end goal? Peace."

"Boy, communists aren't trying to achieve anything except death and destruction and disorder-"

"I bet in the S.U the commies say the same thing about us. That we're all evil and blood-thirsty. This war is just a result of people being closed-minded and not communicating." He retorted,

"Don't you dare raise your voice to me." Mr. Uzumaki responded.

But he wasn't even raising his voice. The teacher was clearly not used to being challenged and wanted to put a stop to it and still keep his pride as quickly as possible. The only problem was...that Madara kid looked like he was more prideful than the damn teacher.

"And if you keep teaching kids that they're all evil, you're creating a world where no one will _ever_ try to understand anyone and we'll all just go back to war again-"

"Boy, if you value your grade and your future, I highly advise you-"

"Just admit it." He interrupted. "You know there isn't a point to this war, either, and we'll never win. That's why you're mad, you're just scared!"

Christ, if that kept going on, he was going to get himself in some real trouble, talking like that... And not even just with the teacher, but with the whole friggin' superintendent. I couldn't let him crash and burn like that...especially since I completely agreed with every word he was saying...

I started clapping suddenly, slowly, and then I picked up the pace. It distracted the kid, making him and everyone else look at me. I stood up.

"Wasn't that the gnarliest commie impersonation you've ever seen!?" I exclaimed. "Give this dude a round of applause, man. You all fell for it!"

Everyone in class was silent for a beat, thinking about it, but then they all burst into laughter and started clapping and whooping and hollering.

"An...impersonation?" Mr. Uzumaki asked, looking at us both tentatively.

The Madara kid glanced at me with a wary expression. I nodded at him meaningfully and then, needing no more hints, he turned to the teacher and smirked, pulling off the best "I just screwed you over" face anyone has ever seen in creation.

"Psyche." He said.

At least he was quick on his feet...

"We totally fooled you, man." I went on. "Had you thinking you were talking to Stalin himself!"

Then, even the big, bad Mr. Uzumaki cracked a smile as the class burst with laughter.

"Well, alright now... Go on and settle down."

I took my seat again as the hyper mood and amusement began to dissipate.

"But there's a time and place for jokes." Mr. Uzumaki said. "Detention. Both of you."

"What?!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, detention, three hours after school today. I promise you can be class clowns all you want there."

It wasn't like it really mattered much anyway. I was his "buddy", so if things persisted and he got detention all on his own, I would've had to stay after with him, too. In that kind of situation, I felt like I picked the best option...going out with a bang. Besides, at least he wasn't expelled.

He walked up to the chalkboard and quickly wrote our names down, which he terribly misspelled probably on purpose.

"And if anyone wants to join them go ahead and assist someone in impersonating a commie." he exclaimed.

The class was dead silent. He pointed at me.

"Now, both of you, go stand outside for the remained of the class."

I hadn't been in there for less than ten seconds but I got up, grabbed my backpack, and walked out anyway with the Madara kid right behind me. Before I left, I glanced at the teacher.

"I'm digging the Hitler-stache." I said, pointing to his facial hair. "Looks rad."

The entire class boomed with laughter before Mr. Uzumaki, with the reddest and angriest face I'd ever seen a teacher sport, slammed the door in my face. He slammed it so hard, some of the picture frames outside of the class wobbled.

And that was how I ended up in detention with the best "buddy" a guy could ever ask for... The same kid who got an A-plus for a perfect textbook answer and then screwed it all up by having to bring college-level philosophy into a tenth grade civics class. Madara Uchiha.

"I'll give you the skinny on it, if you're really that pressed." He said to me as we sat down in the empty classroom. "Wearing those jeans make me feel like I'm wearing a damn one-sie, so I avoid them. It has nothing to do with me being a rebel or a bastard."

Then he looked me up and down.

"But at least, I'm not wearing board shorts."

I grinned, discovering the guy could actually be funny.

"You're a jackass." I said, sliding out of my chair and standing up.

I extended my hand to him.

"Nice to meet you."

"I can't really say the same. We're not necessarily meeting under good conditions." He said, motioning to the board which still had our names scribbled on it but then he grabbed my hand and shook it anyway.

I laughed.

"I'm totally zen, dude. Meeting is meeting, no matter where or how it happens."

He was silent for a while. I looked down at the bright blue, high-topped Nike Blazer's he was wearing. I'd seen a commercial for them earlier that week. Limited edition and all. I began to doubt my prior assertion to him not having a stable home. How could he have gotten such expensive kicks otherwise? He had his tube socks rolled down so that they didn't extend past the tops of his sneakers. He had on a blue Coca-Cola t-shirt that was faded, looking like he had it for a long time, and his black shorts extended a bit past his knees, meaning they were too big for him.

"The move you pulled in class earlier..."

I expected him to say it was ridiculous or I deserved getting kicked out or something similar but he looked at me seriously, long, black wavy hair falling over his shoulder and said:

"...Why did you do it?"

I didn't even have to think about it.

"I was just trying to save you from becoming 'public enemy number one'." I replied, grinning. "Did you actually think a 10th grade teacher was going to be able to understand all that morale shit you were spouting?"

He avoided my eyes and said nothing. My smile faded as I chose that moment to be slightly more serious than I had been.

"But I guess the main reason is that... _I_ understood what you were saying loud and clear."

His eyebrows rose as he turned to me. And strangely, it felt like he was looking at me for the first time. We stared at each other for a moment. And then he sighed, pointing to the door.

"Anyway, I'm blowing off this detention shit. I got somewhere to be." He mumbled. "So, as I was saying earlier, but you were too spaced to hear... Let's just leave."

And that surprised the hell out of me but he was already out of his chair, walking.

I picked up my backpack walking after him.

"The buses all left already." I said to him. "How are you getting home?"

"I didn't take a bus here." He told me.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, right, you're psychin' me out." I said. "For one, ants are taller than you, there's no way you have a car."

"Shut-up!" He retorted. "As if you're any taller!"

He crossed his arms.

"And besides, it's a not a car."

We hopped down the staircase, dodging teachers, and cheesier kids who were already kissing ass on the first day. We walked out to the student parking lot, where people were snuffing out cigarettes or lighting some, and dudes were already trying to get fresh with chicks they just met.

"It's a two-wheeler."

My eyebrows popped up as we approached a fire-hot, red painted, patent leather, BEAST of a 1968 Harley Davidson I'd ever seen in my life.

"That's blazin!" I exclaimed.

He smirked.

"Finally got your eyes checked, huh?"

He swung his leg over, hopping onto it. I momentarily questioned whether he had a motorcycle riding permit but was distracted as it reeved to life. He shook his hair back, reaching into a front pocket to pull out a pair of thin rimmed, yellow-tinted sunglasses which he fitted over his face. Everything was child's play up to that point. I mean, the guy even had a friggin' Harley Davidson. There was absolutely no way he wasn't a rebel.

"...Can I come with?" I asked. "I live kinda far... And besides, I don't want the folks finding out I got landed in detention on the first day of class."

I decided not to mention the fact that it was his fault that I got detention anyway so he basically owed me.

He turned to me, and with his sunglasses on, I couldn't tell what his eyes looked like, so it seemed like he was just glaring at me.

"I have better things to do than tow around hippie's." He remarked.

And, it didn't come as a surprise to me that he was a self-deserving jack-ass either. I shrugged, taking my backpack and beginning that slow, lonely walk home...

He zoomed up beside me, smirk stretching across his face.

"Dude, get your sorry ass up here."

"Do you just like to torture people?" I asked, trying to hide my excitement as I swung my leg over and sat behind him.

"I didn't think you'd actually believe me." he replied.

He reved the engine again, more for dramatic effect than because he actually had to, and we sped off. With the wind in my hair, it was pretty hard to look straight on so, I turned my head right. We were passing City Hall again, where the protestors had woken up to rant and rave.

"END IT NOW! END IT NOW!"

"They're probably going to get the squads out here sooner or later. Sick the dogs on 'em." Madara said.

I looked at them all, feeling a sense of longing.

"You sound so optimistic." I said sarcastically.

"But it's true." He replied, moving on past the stop light. "It's the way the world has to be, we're going to have a war on everything before we figure out how to deal with it."

I turned my head back forward to hear him better.

"A war on drugs, race, religion, terrorism... Everything." He said, then he shrugged. "That's just how humans are. We're all selfish and brutish people, so we destroy things we don't understand."

"Thomas Hobbes, right?" I asked him.

I could feel him tense slightly with my chest pressing up against his back. I leaned around to see that he looked surprised. Perhaps he didn't think I even _knew_ that name. It wouldn't be a bad assumption... I was probably a needle in a haystack. He nodded slowly.

"...Right." He responded.

"Well, then that means I'm your God-given rival." I proclaimed, smirking. "You can call me John Locke."

We both laughed. The kind of joke only philosophy nerds would understand. And then it hit me. Somehow, in this fucked up, crazy world, I found someone...that thinks similar to the way I do... And it only took fifteen years of my life to do it.

After I told him where my house was and he pulled up in front of it, he nodded at me.

"Catch you on the rebound, Hashirama."

I gave him the "hang-loose" sign.

"Backatcha!"

**Madara Uchiha**

**Kill The Evil**

After fourth period, I would've been a free man if it wasn't for that asshole teacher giving me detention. The guys surrounded me while I headed to my locker.

"Dude, that was so rad!" Kagami said.

"Totally gnarly." Hiruzen agreed. "I was wondering how you were going to get yourself in detention. That was really surprising."

Little do they know, I wasn't even planning on going out that way. I was going to do something simple. Like wait until the class was silent and point out his Hitler-stache, or answer a question stupid. Honestly, I was going to answer the question I raised my hand for stupid but then... At the last moment, I remembered that brown haired kid sitting there. And I remembered I'd be dragging him into detention with me... So, I chickened at the last moment.

"It was especially startling for _your_ standards." Danzo added.

But then when he started talking about how communism was evil, I could almost see everyone around me nodding along with him. Soaking in that ridiculous ideology. I was...talking before I even thought about it. Even though I knew better than anyone else it wouldn't solve anything... And it didn't. He didn't listen to me at all. I was going to get much worse than detention if that same brown haired kid didn't speak up and throw himself back into the situation I was trying to save him from. And with an excuse as stupid as 'we planned to impersonate commies' but strangely, with the way his personality is, it was hard for anyone to question it. And these guys didn't question it because they knew I was dared by Danzo to get myself in detention on the first day anyway. Somehow, everything worked out in my favor.

"But I guess you won that bet, then" Danzo informed me, like I didn't already know. "Whatever."

I tossed my notebooks into my locker and nodded without looking at him.

"Dude, we're still on for four thirty, right?"

I slammed my locker door and leaned up against it.

"Detention. Remember?"

They all looked at me like I was speaking another language.

"Aren't you going to shine it off?" Danzo asked.

Kagami nodded.

"Yeah, cuzzo." He agreed. "I don't even know why we're not on the bus right now."

I grabbed Kagami's curly black hair and shook his head.

"Don't use your brain much, do you?" I asked him.

He grinned, moving his head away from mine.

_Kagami Uchiha... If I wasn't his cousin, he'd probably blow me off for touching his hair. He was so obsessed about it looking perfect. _

"That other kid is in there with me and if I don't show, he'll probably snitch." I clarified.

_That's a bold faced lie. I wouldn't give a damn if he told or not. The truth is...I have to figure out what that idiot kid was thinking when he decided to lie for me... What kind of person is he? Why did he even care?_

"I'll catch you guys on the flip side." I said, pulling my backpack straps up.

Danzo gripped my shoulder firmly as we walked on.

"But you're still hitting up with us, right?" he asked.

Kagami looked in a window we were walking past and stopped to straighten his hair up. I stopped, too, shrugging his hand off me.

_Danzo... This asshole always thinks he's calling the shots around here..._

"Have I ever gone back on my word before?" I asked, looking him fully in the eyes.

Kagami and Hiruzen looked over, pretending to be only mildly interested.

"I'll shine it off and be there on time." I said, then I pointed at him. "_You_ better be there..."

I looked at the other two.

"All of you."

I walked into the classroom then, suggesting to the kid sitting there that we blow it off but he was too trapped in his own mental bubble to even register my presence.

_He's clearly an idiot... Dressing like that. What kind of kid wears board shorts on the first day of school?_

And they weren't just any kind of shorts either, they were a bright-ass neon yellow with blue flowers littered all over them, looking like the most unprofessional things I'd ever set eyes on. His tube socks reached his knees with blue stripes at the tops. Along with that, he wore a pair of beat-up black and white Vans Era's and a sleeveless white shirt that said "Surf's Up" in blue capital letters on the back.

He was like a walking "Stop, turn around, and RUN the other direction" sign. But I wanted to do the opposite just to find out what the hell possessed him to make up that lie in class. And when I figured it out, it interested me even more.

_What kind of normal tenth grader can refer to Hobbes and Locke off the top of his head? _

I pulled the motorcycle into my driveway and in through the garage which was purposely held open for me. Izuna stood there, giving me a look.

"You're lucky I had the garage open, what if Tsubasa found out and creamed you?"

I rolled my eyes as I rolled up next to him.

"He'd call before coming home, Izu." I said, cutting the engine. "Who the hell would pick him up from the airport?"

"Not if he wanted to surprise us. You know he loves surprises."

_Yeah, yeah, I know... He's the sappy kind of square who really would pop up randomly with flowers for Mom and teddy bears for us or some shit and make me embarrassed to call him my eighteen year old older brother. _

"Oh and before I forget, Little League Tryouts are tonight." Izuna informed me. "Are you gonna come watch me?"

I couldn't help but smile.

"Duh." I replied, punching his shoulder playfully. "That's what big brother's do."

He smiled in return.

"Anyway, you better stop or one day you're gonna get caught riding without a permit and then you'll go straight to jail." He said, grabbing his skateboard before he ran out of the garage.

"Stop trippin', Izuna."

"Straight to jail!" he reiterated as he dropped his skateboard on the driveway and swung out into the street.

_And that's what happens when you let your eleven year old baby brother in on shit..._

I only hung out at home for a quick second, long enough to pour the notebooks and paper out of my backpack and onto my bed and grab a black wool hat. I walked out of my bedroom and hopped down the stairs when a voice spoke up.

"Izu, is that you?"

I didn't respond, at that moment, noticing one of my Nikes were untied.

"...Madara?"

I still said nothing, bending down to tie my shoe.

"I know it's you, Madara."

I finished tying my shoe and grabbed the front door knob.

"You're going to ignore your own goddamn mother!?" she exclaimed.

"What the hell do you want, Mom?" I yelled, finally turning to look into the living room where the voice was coming from.

I could see the back of the couch and her arm lying over the side of it. All that time, she didn't even waste the energy to get up, let alone look at my face, and she was mad at _me _for ignoring her?!

_She's such a friggin' waste of space..._

"...Could'ja get me a pack of cigs and a bottle of whiskey on your way home?" she asked.

_Point validated. _

"I'm surprised you didn't ask Izuna to go do it for you." I muttered. "Isn't it about time to ruin him with your shitty parenting?"

"Madara_, please_. I don't have time for your goddamn church sermons today. Are you gonna do it or not? I have such a fuckin' head ache..."

_Maybe if you didn't spend your entire day drinking and smoking, your body would actually resemble something humanoid. _

I slammed the door behind me and didn't say anything.

_It's better to leave ungrateful people in suspense... Maybe if I never come back, she'll learn a thing or two._

As I ran around back to grab my bike, I recalled earlier when that brown haired kid assumed that either my Mom was a head or I was a jerk.

_The funny thing is he was pretty real on _both_ of those guesses..._

It only took me about ten minutes to ride to where I was supposed to meet up with the guys and, as usual, I was still earlier than them. Our hangout spot was just an old wooden shack house we'd built in the back woods. It was pretty small but so were we. I sat down on one of the rickety barstools and threw my feet up on the only table that could fit inside of it, an end table with a cracked leg, when the guys came along.

"You must've blown the board shorts kid off pretty fast to be here already." Danzo observed.

"I didn't blow him off, I dropped him off at home." I corrected him.

Danzo raised his eyebrows.

"Why? He's a goon anyway, isn't he?"

Kagami grinned.

"I think he's awesome." He said. "That move you guys pulled in class together was off the charts!"

Danzo leaned up against the wall.

"Speaking of that, I just started to think of it... How could you guys have planned that if you just met him today?" he asked me.

_Friggin' Danzo... Always has to fuck up someone's vibe... _

"Who said I just met him today?" I asked.

Hiruzen nodded.

"Yeah, actually, I think I've seen him around before, too." He said, backing me up.

Danzo leaned forward.

"So, you're sharing our business with him now?" he asked.

"No." I said, standing up. "I asked him for help with a prank and he went with it. What's your damage?"

"Just making sure you weren't outing us."

"I say what's outing and what's not." I told him. "You wanna fight about it?"

He stared at me and said nothing.

_Thought so..._

I got up and lifted the floorboards where our gear was. One by one, I handed each of them their weapon, we all had identical .45 Magnum handguns.

_Pretty light and also very easy to conceal. Perfect for fourteen year old kids. _

Kagami laughed.

"You got so stunned just now, Danzo." He said as he took his gun.

"Shut up..." Danzo muttered.

"So, what's today's plan?"

"The rich neighborhoods." I replied, cocking my gun. "On the news last night, I saw a report about this idiot in a bright orange sweater running around breaking into cars."

"Stellar." Kagami said, wiping down his barrel. "And you think he's going to hit again?"

"Psychos always have a routine." I told them. "Wearing an orange sweater and striking only rich neighborhoods are two..."

"And only breaking in on pay day is the third." Danzo interjected, as he pointed his gun at me, being careful not to have his finger on the trigger.

I stared at the gun in my face until he lowered it.

_Show-off..._

"Anyway, it sounds like he's a commie, doing something like that." Danzo said. "This will be my pleasure."

"Put your safety on." I said to them and then I picked my backpack up and tossed it to Hiruzen. "You're carrying the bag today. Let's go."

"For sure, Daddy-O." Kagami joked.

Hiruzen put his arms through the straps and we all pulled our black skully's over our faces as we walked through the darkening forest.

-A FEW HOURS LATER-

Danzo leaned up over the hood of a light blue 1959 Volkswagen Beetle we were all hiding behind and nudged me with his boot.

"It's been thirty minutes, Madara. Are you sure you didn't mess up?" he asked.

"Didn't I say psychos have patterns? I monitored this bastard well. He'll be here."

_Not only does he strike only on payday but for some strange reason, it looks like he only hits odd numbered houses. _

"My legs are getting numb." Kagami complained for the fifth time in the last thirty minutes.

_He was new at vandalism. Only just starting up. But with the four break-ins he's done, using simple mathematics and a convergence of variables, I predict he should be at house 1345. _

That was the house we were standing right across the street from.

Danzo suddenly scoffed, pulling his face mask off.

"I knew I should've picked the next target, counting on you is just-"

I grabbed the collar of his flannel brown shirt, slamming him back into the car.

"You want to keep talking, big shot?" I asked him. "I can give you some shit to talk about!"

He stared at the fist I had position right over his face and shut up again.

"Hey, guys." Hiruzen spoke up.

We both looked over.

"Someone's coming."

We hurriedly got into position, leaning up against the car again. I grabbed the binoculars from Kagami and looked through them. A person wearing a pair of dark blue bellbottoms and an over-sized day-glo orange sweater neared the house.

"Description fits. You're a friggin' genius, Madara." Kagami cheered, clapping me on the back.

Danzo rolled his eyes.

_Can't say anything now, can ya' asshole?_

"Check out the size of that crowbar." Kagami said as the person pulled the metallic thing out and looked around suspiciously before shoving it under the window.

"Alright, like we planned." I said. "Hiruzen, you're carrying the bag so you stay back and get the evidence. Kagami, you and I will-"

"We came up with a better plan." Danzo interjected.

But I continued talking over him, it was less because I wanted to be rude and more because I was just that appalled that someone had the gall to interrupt me.

Danzo slammed his hand down on the car.

"Hey! I _said_ we came up with a better plan! Pay attention!"

There's nothing that pisses me off more than someone telling me to pay attention...

But I held my tongue because he said "we" and I didn't want to be a tyrant.

"He's just a burglar. We don't need the regular blackmail, scare off routine." He told me.

I rolled my eyes.

_Blackmail is one of the best ways to get someone to do what you want... Who the hell does this guy think he's teaching?_

"Instead, all three of us run out there and corner him so he can't run, tell him to get on his hands and knees and then hold him until the cops come."

"Cops?" I asked.

"One of us should go to a nearby house and get someone to call them now." He ordered.

I looked at Kagami and Hiruzen.

"This is what you all came up with when I'm absent for one second?"

"No, this is what we came up with when you were absent for three hours." Kagami corrected.

I couldn't even roll my eyes. It was my fault for asking him a serious question. I turned to just Hiruzen.

"It takes a lot of the pressure off of us." Hiruzen said, shrugging slowly. "I mean, this way, the authority can actually handle-"

"Authority?!" I exclaimed at them. "The same 'authority' that has your parents locked up, Danzo's father dead and Kagami's sisters on a 'wanted' list."

"Close your damn mouth, Madara! You don't know shit about my father!" He yelled at me.

_We all knew shit about his father. A cop who was killed in the line of duty because he relied on his comrades to back him up and they faked out._

"I _do_ know that when you started this you said it was because you didn't trust them. If anyone needs to 'pay attention' it's you." I retorted.

"Hey, in my sisters' defense, they were messed up anyway." Kagami said. "I mean, no one told them get strung out on dope and get caught!"

"We're doing it my way." I said, pressing back up against the car. "Now shut up and come on."

"Your way is just you trying to win all the glory and be the hero!" Danzo said to me, fingers curling. "When I started this, I said I wanted to change the shitty justice system, not _destroy_ it. All you're doing is trying to erase the cops and put yourself in like a freaking superhero or something. You're not God!"

"You think I'm trying to be a hero! You freaking hypocrite. Who's trying to run out there like a fake-cop shouting 'put your hands up'?! Do you want to die?"

Everyone was silent. I sighed.

"Who's with me?" I asked.

Kagami punched my shoulder to Danzo's complete dismay.

"He's my cousin, man." Kagami justified.

Hiruzen bent his head.

"Well, I do think calling the police could be a bit safer for us and take some of the pressure off but Madara's way, just handling it all ourselves, seems to have worked so far." He said, then he nodded at me.

Hiruzen was always one for avoiding too much pressure or responsibility. That didn't mean he was a wuss. He was one of the bravest guys I knew, that was why he was in the group. But he didn't do well with confrontation at all.

_Interestingly enough, Danzo does better in high intensity situations than both of them. _

"I'll show you right now that it's a better plan!" Danzo insisted, getting to his feet. "There's four of us and one of him! And on top of that, all he has is a stupid crowbar!"

Before any of us could say anything, he was already winding around the car and discretely trying to hurry across the street.

_Serves him right if that idiot runs over there and gets bashed in the side of the head._

But I ran after him, still unsure about whether or not I'd actually be okay with him getting the shit beat out of him on my watch. Kagami and I ran over to where Danzo posted up behind another car just as he jumped up, rolled over the hood of it like he was in a 1950s detective flick and ran up the line.

"Put your hands up!" Danzo shouted.

The person froze. Hiruzen, who was right on our heels, had the camera out of his bag and snapped the picture right on time.

"Got the evidence!" he declared.

"You're going to fuckin' jail, now get on your knees!" Danzo shouted, thrusting the gun at him. "Go on, do it now!"

The person moved, seemingly like they were about to get on their hands and knees and then, suddenly, flung the crowbar out at him. He wasn't far enough away to have enough time to duck and so instead, he did something I didn't even know he could do...

A gunshot rang out just at the same time as the crowbar hit Danzo's hands and threw his balance off. A bullet shot right past the masked person with the orange sweater on and burst through the window next to them. Orange Sweater, with a terribly late reaction time, dove into the flowerbed.

"Ahh!" Danzo shouted. "My wrist!"

Orange Sweater jumped up then, getting out of the flowers and sprinting across the driveway, Danzo pointed and shot the gun again.

"What the hell are you doing!?" I exclaimed. "Stop fucking shooting at him!"

But he missed anyway and the guy slipped and busted his ass on the concrete of the driveway, trying unsuccessfully to get his bearings, and dipped out, sprinting out into the street.

It was just then that, with the second bullet Danzo shot hitting another window of the house, that an alarm went off inside. It was a loud, screeching sound I'd never heard before.

"What the hell is that?!" Kagami shouted.

"It's a burglar alarm! Like the ones at stores!" Hiruzen told us.

_Shit! I thought my family was the only one paranoid enough to invest in something like that..._

"Let's book! Come on, grab the crowbar, too!"

Not only were we looking incredibly guilty, all four of us were armed, though not as heavily as Danzo and his stupid ass...

We blew out of there as fast as we could, jumping at everything that sounded only slightly like a police siren or a fire truck. Under brown, wooden fences, over narrow creaks, around shoddy corners and through shitty alleyways. It wasn't until we jumped the train tracks and ran out into a Kroger Grocery parking lot that, leaning against someone's tan Audi, we stopped to catch our breath.

"That was a close one, man... I bet the cops are swarming all over that place." Kagami said.

"We should've left the crowbar, though. That way they might've been able to catch him with fingerprints. Right, Madara?" Hiruzen wanted to know.

But I wasn't listening. I shoved into Danzo, pinning him up against the car.

"What's your deal, dude?" he asked.

"Who the heck told you to put ammo in that gun!?" I shouted at him.

"Get off me!" he shouted, pushing me back. "What's the point of carrying something around if you aren't going to use it?!"

He spat on the black parking lot asphalt.

"I'm not going to just preach justice and not enforce it. Unlike people like you..."

I grabbed both his shoulders and shoved him back.

"I should bust your stupid head open on the concrete right now, you friggin' idiot! What if you accidently shot one of us with that gun, huh?! Didn't think of that did you, wise guy?"

"Stop pushing up on me, man! You're not my FUCKING MOTHER!"

Even with a sprained wrist he was angry enough to shove me back. And that angered me.

_This guys's such a friggin' extremist. He hates so much, he can't even see when he's going over the top..._

I shoved him, punching him in the face which he responded to by grabbing my neck.

"Hey, guys! Stop it!" Kagami said, squeezing himself in between us.

"If it wasn't for Hiruzen vouching for you, I'd never have let your dumb ass join." I muttered.

"Hey!" Kagami said, looking at me. "Just veg out, okay? Come on, guys..."

I sighed.

"Whatever..."

I crossed my arms, walking away from them as Danzo muttered under his breath.

"He thinks he's such hot shit..." he muttered.

"You shouldn't have put bullets in that gun, Danzo. When we started this we said-" Hiruzen began.

"I know what we said, Hiru." Danzo said to him. "But how do you expect people to listen to you with no fire power, huh?!"

They were silent.

"This isn't any Martin Luther King bullshit. We're not doing any freaking sit-ins and marches... This is real life."

_Yeah, real life where you get your wrist snapped for being a trigger happy jerk-off..._

I continued walking, not called back into a conscious frame of mind until I heard unnatural sounds coming from the bed of a truck.

"W-Wait, I just..."

"Come on, baby... Let's just try to have a good time alright?"

It could've been the sneering tone. The excitedly drunk laughter. Or the panicked female voice.

_This doesn't sound too good..._

I glanced over at the guys, just by a stroke of luck, Hiruzen was looking over at me, somewhat longingly, probably upset or something that I'd stormed off. I was still too pissed at Danzo to want him even five feet away from me, so I put my finger to my lips and motioned to him quietly. He gave me a questioning look and quickened his pace, jogging over to me.

"What are you-"

"Shhh!" I said, clamping my hand down over his mouth.

I ducked, hoping the person hadn't heard him.

"No, Billy, no... I don't want-" the feminine voice whimpered.

"Listen up, alright?" I said to Hiruzen. "We might've lost the day-glo asshole, but we can still do this one. You're gonna cover me."

He pulled my hand down from his mouth.

"Shouldn't we tell-"

"No." I stated.

"Billy, stop it! I'm serious."

"Just relax, honey... It's cool..."

I froze momentarily. We were standing at the front end of the truck. Through the windshield, I could see a bulky figure, bearing down on a more petite one. But we were in plain sight. If he so much as glanced up, it would be too late. I glanced behind us where, a little ways across the parking lot, Kagami sat with Danzo using some gauze from the bag to wrap up his wrist. I lowered my voice.

"We can handle this ourselves. I mean, we've gotten far enough to be able to hack a common criminal."

He looked over the front of the truck and nodded slightly, seeming to agree.

"What's the plan, then?" He asked.

"You got your gun?"

He nodded.

"Give it to me." I said.

He pulled it out of his belt and handed it to me without question. He grabbed the Polaroid camera, which was hanging around his neck, and pulled it up. I grabbed his hand.

"No, you keep the camera." I told him.

"Billy, please... Please..."

"You're going to go around the left side and snap a picture first off. Alright? That's the very first thing you're going to do. I'm going around right with the gun, okay?"

"He'll jump on me, Madara." Hiruzen said. "I'm completely unarmed."

"I know what I'm talking about. Rapists are cowards, okay? Most of the time, they aren't even real criminals, haven't even done any real damage. Their only problem is they got dicks for brains."

Hiruzen laughed. I grabbed his skully, which he'd pulled back, and pulled it down over his face.

"Come on." I said, covering my own face.

"Alright. I trust you."

We moved out, slowly coming around the sides.

"I don't want to-"

"Look, bitch." He said, suddenly sounding harsh in tone instead of all the 'all loving' voice he had earlier. "I've been driving around paying for your shit all day, now you gotta give me something for all that work, huh? Now just lie here and shut the-"

I heard the picture snap, shutter clicking. He jumped up just like I expected him to, jeans falling down exposing his bare ass.

"What the fuck?! Damn pervert!" he shouted, startling Hiruzen who hopped off the side of the truck which he had climbed on to take a good picture.

I climbed on the other side, taking the split second I had that he was distracted to grab him, wrapping my arm around his neck and sticking my gun into his back.

"Say a word and I'll blow your fucking asshole out through your dick!" I snarled.

"S-shit..." he whispered.

Hiruzen got into the bed of the truck, offering the shaken girl his hand.

"Don't be scared." He whispered to her. "We're the good guys."

I jumped down off the back of the truck and with my arm still around his neck, he was forced down with me. He yelled arms flailing as I slammed him down into the concrete on his back and dropped my knee into his chest. I cocked the gun for extra effect and shoved it into his jaw.

"Get her out of here." I ordered.

"Signed, Sealed, Delivered." Hiruzen responded.

I heard two pairs of feet drop off the back of the truck and run off. I looked down at the piece of shit on the ground in front of me and felt nothing but contempt for him.

"Now listen up, dickhead." I began. "You're at the precipice of your entire life right now."

"P-Preci-what?!" He asked, trying to turn his head.

"Don't talk!" I shouted.

He stiffened, as I pushed the gun further.

"You can either die here, crying with your pants off like a friggin' toddler, or you change your life." I told him. "I'll pull the damn trigger right now if you don't do what I say."

He nodded slowly, cheek scratching against the tiny rocks and rubble.

"One word about us to anybody... And we'll make sure that picture is front page on tomorrow's newspaper. Got me?"

He nodded again.

"And secondly, put your cock back in your pants and stop trying to shove it down someone's throat...literally. If I catch you pullin' this shit off again, I'll friggin' castrate you."

I got to my feet, still pointing the gun at him.

"And don't underestimate me, punk. There are more of us. And we're _everywhere_."

He nodded a final time. I looked up, seeing that Hiruzen had gotten the girl back to the guys. He was motioning to me frantically, clearly, they were ready to book. I bent over him, quickly patting down the pockets of his bellbottom jeans until I came across what I was searching for...a wallet. I poured the contents out, emptying it until I came across his cash, hidden in a smaller compartment.

"Are you fuckin' robbing me?!"

I cocked my leg back planting a solid kick in his ribs. He choked, coughing saliva onto the ground. Then I raised my foot, stomping on his ass, the front of his body slammed into the concrete hard and he winced and cried out, probably hitting his balls pretty hard.

"Shut your damn mouth." I spat. "This is a public service. Next time, remember rape isn't cheap."

"You're a fucking crook!" he accused, tearfully.

"Count to 500. Slowly." I told him. "And don't you dare move until you're done."

He began counting slowly, whispering it to himself. I dropped his wallet on his head, rolling my eyes.

"Forty bucks is all you have? Cheap piece of crap..." I muttered.

I turned then, darting for the guys who were already looking like runners, waiting for a baton. It didn't take me long to get over to them and then we were all sprinting, making a beeline for the main road, then crossing it and safely getting to brightly lit shopping mall that was still open.

"Pay phones are over there, Miss." Hiruzen said. "Call someone you trust to come pick you up."

She nodded hard, blonde hair whipping around her face, and wiped her eyes tearfully. I took a ten dollar bill out of my pocket and handed it to her.

"Or call a cab." I said. "Whichever will get you out of here as quick as possible, he could follow you here."

I motioned to the guys and we turned around, getting ready to leave but she grabbed my arm.

"Who are you guys?" she asked us, crossing her arms over her tie-dyed shirt.

I pulled my arm away from her. We all paused, slowly, one by one, turning to look at her with our faces covered by our black masks. It was silent for a long beat.

"No one." I finally told her. "Just...regular guys whose mission it is to kill the evil."

"Kill the evil?" she repeated. "Is...something like that even possible?"

I snapped my fingers, giving them the signal to head out and we didn't respond to her.

_I don't know if it's possible or not... But I don't care. I'll do whatever it takes... Whatever..._

"You really are good at understanding criminals, Madara." Hiruzen said as we ran. "You planned that out to the nine."

"Planned what out?" Kagami asked. "What happened?"

"It was spontaneous. Some guy just decided to take advantage of that girl while I was close by."

"A random one? Psychedelic! It's been a long time since we've hit one like that!"

"Did you get any cash for it?" Danzo asked.

"Yeah." I pulled another ten out of my pocket and handed it to Hiruzen. "But none for your dumbass. Next time, you'll think before you pull a loaded gun out on someone."

I could see him glaring at me out of the corner of my eye but he said nothing. It wasn't long until we were back in our part of town, walking past some of the last few stores and shops before it would just be suburbia land from there on out. It was there, as Hiruzen pulled a cig out of his pocket and lit it, that I remembered.

"Shit." I said. "I got something to do."

They all raised their eyebrows at me.

"I'll catch you guys on the rebound."

They all stared as I turned, jogging at a westward angle down the street until I could get to the Tobacco and Alcohol store.

_Crap... I normally don't like messing with places close to where I live but I'm already late. At this rate, I'll miss Izuna's baseball thing... _

I pushed the doors open, irritated to see that there were already two people inside. I lurked around, looking at bottles of cheap, bottom-shelf liquor and wine to pass time until it was empty except for me. I chose that moment to pick up a bottle of Jack Daniels and take it to the cashier.

"This please. And whatever's your cheapest cigs off the back." I said pointing.

I still had the mask over my face which was suspicious but I had the money in my hand and I tried to sound as polite as I could, hoping he would over look it.

"...Yeah, right, kid." He said, only looking over his newspaper momentarily. "What are ya' twelve years old? Getcher ass outta here before I call your Mom."

_Too bad my Mother was the one who sent me here._

I sighed, letting go of the bottle and slowly lowering my hand to my pants.

_Now shit has to get real._

I pulled the gun, which I still had on me, out of the back of my pants and pointed it at him.

"Motherfucker, please. If you value your piece of shit life, I suggest you get your lazy ass up, give me the goddamn cigarettes and close that fucking hole in your face."

He was so startled, he almost fell out of his chair. He backed up, hitting the glass behind him, which held all of the cigarettes out of customer's reach, and with shaking hands, slid the glass door open and gave me the cigarettes.

"H-Here man, just don't shoot. Please... I... I have a son."

"Cram the sob story." I muttered, picking up the cigarette carton.

_This'll do._

I slammed the money for it down on the counter.

"Next time when someone offers to pay for shit, close your damn mouth." I said before I walked toward the double doors and pushed them open. "And by the way, I'm almost sixteen, asshole."

_I'm just short._

"B-But...uh...kid? I-I mean, sir? Your...change." he stammered.

"Keep it." I said before walking out.

Glancing at the reflection on the car in the lot in front of me, I could see his facial expression. Surprised, slightly frightened, but there was something behind that... And it was respect.

_A kind criminal. People don't call the police on law abiding law breakers, they respect them._

And I was right. If I showed even the slightest bit of courtesy to someone, even after I beat them senseless, they would admire me. It was a strange thing about humans. An appreciation of deviancy humans had that made them appreciate the abnormal things in life...like an armed liquor store robber paying for the stuff and telling you to keep the change. Still, I couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness whenever I recalled the things that Hiruzen and Kagami always said to me.

"_How are you so good at understanding criminals?"_

And

"_Are you like a genius or something?"_

_I'm so good at understanding how they think... Because I'm one of them._

I pushed the door to my house open, feeling slightly elevated when I didn't hear Izuna's light hearted voice around. I walked into the living room.

"Didja get my shit?"

_Ungrateful bitch._

I dropped the bag on her and she immediately sat up, pulling everything out.

"Oh, thank god for you, Madara. Best son ever, honestly..." then she froze. "Where the fuck are my cigs?"

I still had them in my pocket.

"Did you think this was all free?" I asked.

I pulled a cigarette out of the carton and picked her lighter up off the table.

"Wait your turn." I said, lighting the cig and then tossing the rest of them at her.

"Don't start that shit..." She warned me. "It'll kill you."

"Oh look, the one Motherly comment you give per year. It must be my friggin' birthday." I replied, blowing the smoke out in her general direction. "Can it, Mom. If _you're_ still alive, I'm not worried."

"I can't believe I gave birth to such a smartass, piece of shit..." she groaned, tilting her head to receive the liquor.

"If there's anything you should be incredulous about, it's your alcohol consumption. You're gonna blow a damn liver."

"Incredulous? Even motherfucking university professors don't know what the fuck that means, Madara. Goddamn it! Why don't you go work for fucking NASA, or something, 'stead of preaching to me?!"

"For the last time, Mother, NASA does not stand for Narcotic Security Agency!" I shouted at her. "You're such a friggin' idiot!"

"Whatever..." she muttered.

"Mom? Madara?" a voice called.

"Shit." I muttered, taking a last puff and putting my cigarette out on the liquor bag. "Put that out, Izuna's coming in."

"I. Don't. Care." She said, taking extra measure to blow smoke out at me between every word.

"Hey, I was looking everywhere for you!" he said, grinning at me. "I thought you said you'd be ready to-"

Then he froze, eyes zeroing in on me. I glanced down, wanting to slap myself in the face for not realizing it before. The gun...I still had it on me.

_Of course my own damn Mother wouldn't notice I walked in with a gun in my belt... She probably isn't even surprised... Our relationship is usually on a don't ask don't tell basis anyway._

"I was hunting with the guys." I lied.

He looked for a moment longer and then nodded, choosing to believe my lie, but I knew underneath it, he still suspected a lot.

"Are you still going to come?"

"_PLEASE_, go!" My mother exclaimed.

I gave her a look and decided just to mess with her momentarily like I wasn't going.

"I have homework to do." I told him with a straight face. "And so do you."

Izuna gave me that 'no fair' look.

"Aw, come on, Madara, we can do it when we get back, please?! I promise!"

I sighed, pretending to break.

"Fine." I told him. "But you _better_ do it."

"Groovy!" he said, nodding hard and following me to the front door.

Even though I tried to be an admirable big brother, one that he'd like to look up to. I was actually pretty terrible at it. He knew much more about me than I wanted him to and he often tried his best to fall into the same stupid mistakes I did.

"Oh and before I forget, here." I said, pulling the last of the money, a twenty dollar bill, out of my pocket and putting it in his hand.

His eyebrows jumped up into his hair.

"Where did you get this from!?"

"Shhh!" I put my finger to my lips and looking to see if our Mother had heard.

_If she knows either of us have this kind of cash, she'll definitely steal it for her stupid booze._

"You said you didn't have money for lunch yesterday, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, but this is _way _more than I need for that!"

"Well, then save it for the rest of the school year." I said, then I shrugged offhandedly. "You can't listen in class if you're hungry all day."

He grinned, slipping the money into his low top baby blue converse sneakers.

"You're the best, Madara." He said.

But it was moments like that that made me feel like I did as I much as I possibly could for him.

I smirked at him, throwing my arm around his shoulders as we walked down the driveway.

"Come on, let's blow this taco stand."

Author's Note: If you like the way this story is going and you want more, please leave a review for me! No review? I'll just assume no one's interested. But I really hope at least _one_ person is interested. Hahaha.

Up Next: Hashirama and Madara meet AGAIN and get feisty political! Also, Hashirama starts to have certain 'feelings' while Madara has a really 'weird' dream. Is his dream a blessing...or a curse?


	2. Chapter 2

**Hashirama**

**The Artist and The Dreamer**

I leaned over the stove, stirring a pot of what I hoped was Spaghetti Sauce while simultaneously keeping my eye on the boiling noodles.

"What does the cook book say next, Itama?"

He was rolling his wheelchair around in circles, a weird habit he had when he was bored, and stopped momentarily to look at the book in his lap.

"Stir the spices in next."

"Are you sure it isn't the meatballs?" I asked.

"No, I'm looking right at it, it's-"

"Ita, look again."

He paused for a moment and then laughed.

"Oh, yeah, you were right it _is_ the meatballs."

I wasn't even the least bit surprised I was right. Cooking was like riding a bike. Actually, it was like sleeping when you've cooked the same crappy dinner like 500 times in a row.

"Spaghetti again?" Tobirama sighed as he came in.

"Shut up." I said, dipping the tips of my fingers in the sauce and flicking them at him.

"Hey, watch it!" He exclaimed, ducking behind Itama. "This shirt is brand new!"

"Yeah, brand-new three years ago when Hisa bought it for me." I replied.

"Whatever, it's retro new." He protested.

It was just a regular dark red t-shirt with the American flag on it. He wore a pair of matching dark red mid-thigh length shorts with it. As he leaned against the refrigerator throwing his a baseball up and catching it in his left hand, which was encased in a glove, something occurred to me.

"Hey, Itama, you wanna put the meatballs in for me?"

"Totally!" he exclaimed, rolling himself near the stove.

I walked over to the light brown telephone sitting on the other side of the counter and racked my head trying to remember Hisa's work number. When I couldn't think of it, I just decided to call the hospital, which I knew she already left from seeing as it was already almost seven thirty pm.

"Hello?"

"Hi, uh, is Hisama Senju there? She's one of the nurses in the Neonatal Care Unit."

"Give me a moment."

I waited, watching as Tobirama helped Itama, who was struggling with reaching far over the counter to get the spices.

"Just let me do it."

"No. I can do it myself!"

Itama was one of those self-help idiots who, even when it was clear as day they needed a hand, would break their necks before asking for help. And Tobirama was a self-serving kid who only helped people in two circumstances, either he was forced to or he just felt _that _sorry for them. Normally, because of that, they got along fine. But right then, Tobi probably felt really sorry for him.

"She's left already." The man said, coming back on the phone. "But she gave us the number for her second job at the Passion Parlor. I can transfer you."

"Itama give it here!"

I turned away from their argument and nodded even though he couldn't see me.

"Yeah, that'll do." I said. "Thanks."

"NO!"

And suddenly, in the timespan of like two and a half seconds, two things happened. Tobirama's baseball, which he had still been holding as he tried to get bag of meatballs, flew into the air and just magically landed in the damn pot. And the meatballs that Itama was holding somehow all jumped onto the freaking floor.

"Guys, really!?" I exclaimed.

They pointed at each other.

"It was his fault!" Itama said just as Tobirama screamed "He did it!"

Then they looked at each other.

"Did not!" they said in unison.

"H-Hello?" said a voice on the phone.

"Just clean it up!" I said, then I turned back to the phone.

There was loud music playing on the other end.

"Hello? Hello?" the person repeated.

"Yeah, Hisa? It's me." I said.

"Hashirama? Oh my god... Wow... How did you find this number?" She asked.

She seemed to be having trouble hearing me.

"The hospital had it." I replied.

"Hey, honey, are you gonna patch me up or what?" someone asked.

"I'll be right on it, sir." Hisa said, voice suddenly sounding soft and slightly alluring. "My kid's on the phone and-"

The voices suddenly sounded muffled. Probably because Hisa had put her hand over the receiver.

I glanced over seeing Itama carrying the meatballs toward the garbage.

"No, wash them off, Ita! We're not wasting food."

"That's gross!" Itama exclaimed.

"It's already going to taste gross anyway with Tobi's crappy baseball in there!" I said. "Consider it your punishment."

"You sound like such a Mom." Itama moaned.

"I couldn't be your Mom anyway, didn't we tell you that you were adopted?" I asked.

Tobirama snickered. Itama's eyes widened.

"R-Really?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's why your hair is half white like that. It's from when those Martians dropped you off on our roof."

"What Martians?" He asked tentatively.

"The Martians that created you. And when your hair turns fully white, they're gonna come take you back to your home planet." I told him with a completely straight face.

Tobirama burst into laughter.

"Stop playing guys!" he exclaimed, then he rubbed his eyes. "I don't wanna be a Martian!"

A loud noise came from the phone.

"Hashirama, what is it? Are you okay? Is it Itama?" she asked, suddenly sounding panicked.

"No, no, don't worry, Hisa." I said to her. "We just spilled some stuff."

"Christ, Ita. Stop crying your eyes out and gimme the meatballs so I can wash them." Tobi muttered.

I turned around, walking a bit further but because the cord to the phone was pretty short I couldn't walk too far.

"I was just calling because I just realized, this new job, you never told us when you'd be home." I reminded her.

"Oh, oh, I didn't? I'd say around... Eleven pm at the earliest." She said.

The music wasn't so loud anymore so it sounded like she'd gotten to a closed room.

"Oh." Was all I said as I watched Tobi wash his baseball off and go right back to throwing it from one hand to the next.

"Why? Do you need me home now? Is someone hurt?" she asked, going into hysterics again.

"No, it's not that, it's just that... Tobirama's Little League tryouts..."

She was silent for a moment.

"Shit!" she abruptly exclaimed, realizing what I'd said. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

It's a pretty interesting moment in a kid's life when they hear their parental guardian curse for the first time. It's like hell freaking froze over.

"Oh god, that was _today_?!" She cried out.

"He mentioned it this morning, Hisa." I reminded her.

"Dammit!" she yelled, then, suddenly realizing who she was talking to, she backtracked. "Uh, don't repeat that, Hashirama."

And then they go right back to being oblivious like a boy who's nearly sixteen years old never heard the word "fuck" in his life.

"I-I don't think I can make it, Hashi." She told me. "And I know how much this meant to Tobi... Oh god..."

I glanced over at them, probably sensing that I was talking to Hisa, Tobirama leaned over the counter.

"Is she on her way?" he asked.

And probably hearing him, Hisa sighed.

"Tell him how sorry I am, okay? I know he'll probably never forgive me, but..."

Seeing the expression on my face, Tobirama lowered his head.

"I knew she would forget." He muttered, balling his fists. "She _always_ forgets."

"I've got it all covered, Hisa." I said, smiling widely. "Don't worry. Everything's fine."

She paused.

"...Really?"

"Yup. I'm getting right on it." I said. "We'll see you when you get home."

"Uhm...okay. Be safe."

"Got it." I said, before I hung up.

Hearing the bounciness in my tone, Tobirama gave me a questioning look.

"What's going on?"

"Put the stew on a simmer, we'll eat it when we get back from your tryouts."

"She's coming?!" he exclaimed.

I looked away from him.

"Not exactly. But that doesn't mean we can't go." I said.

Tobirama, being the only person in my life that could consistently see past my bullshit, grabbed my arm.

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"If you think I'm thinking the stadium's close enough to bike ride if we leave now, then yes."

"Mom would never go for that." Tobirama said. "You're breaking rules."

"Okay... Let's just stay home then..." I said, hunching my shoulders.

He pulled my arm again.

"I didn't say we weren't doing it! Let's blow this!" he said, picking his baseball back up.

Itama hadn't said a word the entire time. He looked on at us and nodded.

"Have fun then." He said, looking down at the cook book in his lap. "I'll just watch the food."

I walked over to him, clapping my hands down on his shoulders.

"You think we're going to leave our baby brother in the house alone!?" I asked. "Hisa would kill me!"

"I can't ride a bike." He stated.

"Duh." I said, then I grabbed the cook book up and tapped the wheelchair with it. "But you still have wheels, doncha?"

He gave me a curious look but followed me as I beckoned him on anyway.

"You really think rope is going to hold this?" Tobirama asked as I squatted down in our garage tying Itama's wheelchair.

"What have we got to lose?" I questioned.

"I can think of a good one. My life!" Itama exclaimed.

"I mean what have we got to lose that's _important_." I replied.

"Hey!" Itama protested as we snickered.

I handed the other rope to Tobirama which he grabbed and tied to the bottom of the seat of his bike, too.

"Alright, so this should work out perfect unless we ride too far apart from each other."

"I think it's a stupid idea but whatever it takes to get to the stadium."

Tobirama's life motto is literally "sacrifice is necessary for baseball". He'd jump off the World Trade Center's if someone told him he'd be the next famous pitcher for it.

I pulled my backpack over my back and Tobirama grabbed his sports bag and we got on our bikes.

"I feel scared." Itama said as we pulled the garage up.

"Think of it as your first roller coaster ride." I suggested.

"But I'm scared of roller coasters, too."

"Geez, Ita. You're such a spaz..." Tobirama muttered.

I pulled the garage down after us and then hopped on my bike.

"Don't go too fast."

I glanced at Tobirama with a mischievous grin spreading over my face. Tobirama gave me a precarious look but didn't protest me. The way I saw it, I was doing my little brother a favor. I mean, every kid deserves to know what it feels like to think they're going to die at least once.

"W-Wait... Guys... What are you doing...?! NO!"

-Like Fifty Years Later When Two Bikes towing a Wheelchair Finally Got to the Stadium-

Tobirama was excited enough to just be walking on the same ground that real, profession baseball players walked on. He tugged his baseball cap further onto his forehead as we stood near the edge of the stadium, near the bleachers and just stared at the baseball diamond not saying anything.

Suddenly, a black haired kid wearing baby blue colored converse sneakers ran up to us and clapped Tobirama on the shoulders.

"This is so rad, Tobi!" he declared. "You coming or are you going to let the snails make the team for you?"

"Hell yeah, I'm coming!" he yelled, beginning to run after him, but then he paused, and looked back at me. "And, uh... Thanks, a lot, Hashi."

And that surprised the hell out of me. Tobirama doesn't thank anyone for anything. Seriously, you could push him out of the way of a truck, getting your legs chopped off in the process and he'd just be like: "Well, I could've done that myself." If he was thanking someone for something, either he lost his mind, or it was really important to him. I pulled his cap down.

"Better hit it out of the park." I said.

"Yeah, Tobi, don't make me regret calling you my big brother." Itama said.

"I already regret calling you my little brother, squirt." Tobirama replied.

But then he punched his shoulder in a playful way before he ran off. I grabbed the handles of Itama's wheelchair and looked up at the royal blue sky. The sun had almost completely set.

"Hashi, do you think I would've been a great ball player?" Itama asked me.

His head fell back and he gazed up at me with those soulful brown eyes of his.

"What do you mean _would've_?" I asked, giving him one of my best smiles. "One day, we're going to find an awesome doctor for you, Ita. And then you can be whatever you want."

Slowly, he mirrored my smile.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" I told him, as I wheeled him in the first row of the bleachers. "So what's the first thing you're going to do when you can walk?"

"Be a...basketball player!" he declared.

"Slam dunk!" I yelled, pulling his chair back momentarily.

He swung back, laughing, completely forgetting his fears.

"I'm gonna leave you down here, okay?" I said.

He nodded.

"It's okay. I like being front row."

There were a couple parents and siblings in the rows, watching the tryouts, but they were all pretty spread out, allowing me to walk up the silver, metallic seats and sit four rows directly behind Itama.

I pulled my backpack off and zipped it open, reaching in to pull out a bright red binder with rough, blank paper on the inside.

"Now... What am I gonna draw this time?"

I looked down at Itama sitting forward in his wheelchair and lifting his small hands to grip the metal bars in front of him, barricading him from falling off the bleachers.

I liked drawing. But not just drawing anything, I liked drawing really pretty things. Really delicate things. Things I felt like were worth noticing that people often took for granted. Like the anticipation in Tobirama's eyes as he sat down, waiting for the coach of the team to call his name. And the whiteness that spread onto Itama's knuckles as he gripped the bars, exciting to see his big brother going up to bat.

I decided to draw them both in the same picture. The eyes, the hands, a lone baseball on the field. Apart, they could all mean anything... A million things. But together. Together...that was the real picture.

It didn't take too long to finish up the first sketches of it. I glanced around, something I often did to take a quick break and noticed someone I didn't notice before. A smile spread onto my face. Sitting two rows down and diagonal right of me was that kid. That Madara guy. What the heck was he doing there?

He had his feet up on the seats below him and his arms spread out on the chairs next to him with absolutely no respect like the stadium was his home. The stadium lights were closer to me and farther away from him, so he was bathed in darkness, making it not too surprising that I hadn't noticed him before. His head was leaned up on the seat behind him and his face pointed up. Following his gaze, my eyes met the stars and I couldn't help but get that feeling. You know the one. When you're really curious about what someone's thinking. He looked so day dreamy sitting there, like his mind was a million planets away. But as I continued watching him, my mind created his thoughts for him. I remembered him doodling fighter planes in class and making the explosion sounds as they dropped bombs. My hand started moving across the page...

Normally, I drew real life people, real life things. My drawings were abstract, well at least that's what Tobirama said, but they were of things I'd seen. That day and that moment, however, I started to visualize things that weren't there... Parachutes, ladders, dense forests, tropical jungles with thick, moist air and wet, sticky hair and bugs and fungus... All of these things, suddenly, surrounded me. In my head, of course. And so, I drew it all. Every single bit of it, with one thing, one single real life thing in the middle of it. That Madara boy. But I drew him first. So, when I was drawing the rest of it, I didn't really have to look at him. And so, of course, I couldn't have noticed when-

"Hey."

I froze and looked up.

"You're...uhm..." He scratched his hair, a sign of being completely stumped.

I raised my head, trying not to make any sudden movements.

"Hashirama." I said.

He nodded.

"Oh, right, right, Hashirama." Then he cocked his head as he took a closer look at what I was drawing. "That's..."

He looked back up at me, expression indecipherable.

"Is that...me?"

It was one of those life moments when you're caught by the worst possible person doing the weirdest and most random thing. And then you start backtracking, wondering how the hell it happened. Like first off, was the guy a ninja or something? How the heck did he walk all the way over here without me hearing a single creak?

"Uh..." I stammered. "I-I..."

He reached over and grabbed my binder out of my hands and plopped down on the bench next to me.

"You _did_ draw me." he said, then he squinted. "But I don't get it... What's up with the helicopter and the jungle?"

In the picture, I had Madara sitting where he was before, looking up at the stars with his head tilted back but instead of there being nothing, I drew a helicopter whirling over him some guys about to throw a rope ladder down to him. Off in the distance, there were other helicopters, dozens, with ladders with soldiers climbing up them. He was surrounded by tall, dark palm trees with coconuts and bananas and butterflies and spider webs. Really random stuff while instead of bleachers, he was sitting on a dirt mound with a machine gun stuck into it and had his feet up on an army helmet. Instead of the windbreaker shorts he was wearing and t-shirt, I drew him with a soldier's uniform on, dark green shirt with a matching camouflage jacket, pants, and dark brown combat boots. The only realistic thing in the picture was him.

I shrugged.

"I don't know..." I said.

But the more I looked at the picture, the more I remembered what I was really thinking as I watched him.

"You looked like you were waiting for something."

I could sense him staring at me. I didn't want to confuse him so I kept talking.

"But not just anything. Something vital. Like...something you really, really needed." I shrugged. "I guess I could've seen it as you just been bored of the baseball tryouts or something. But...the look on your face..."

I looked up at him and we locked eyes.

"I just thought that maybe... What you needed was an escape." I pointed at the helicopter. "So, I gave you a way out."

He stared at me for a moment and then, looked back down at the drawing.

"This really looks like 'Nam." He reported.

"I've seen enough of the news to know what it looks like." I shrugged.

"It also really looks like me."

"Yeah, well, simple guys aren't that hard to draw." I said, leaning back.

He gave me a look and then smirked, flipping the pages. The other pages in my book were of nothing but nature. Individual tree leaves waving in the wind. Monarch butterflies resting on the branches above sandy beaches. Lizards finding their way up tree trunks.

"I see you're the outdoorsy type."

I shrugged.

"I really like trees." I told him. "Actually, I wasn't always an artist. I used to do woodshop before."

"Woodshop?" He repeated.

I nodded. "Yup, I was the best in my class. Making rocking chairs and wooden clocks and sculptures and stuff."

"Well... Why did you switch?" He asked, taking a moment to glance up at me.

"Even though I liked wood, it's really rigid, you know?"

"You don't say?" He replied sarcastically.

I laughed. "Yeah, I mean... There's only so much you can do. But with paper and pencils... You can honestly go anywhere."

He paused at the drawing I had started before I began drawing him.

"And what's _this_ supposed to be? A baseball...and a kid's eyes...and some hands?" he asked. "And I was just about to call you a decent artist, too..."

I frowned.

"I guess I'm not so good afterall..."

He was silent for a moment.

"Are you... Are you really sad? I was mainly kidding."

I raised my head up, grinning at him.

"Psyche!" I declared. "And anyway, maybe if you had any artistic eye at all, you could see for yourself what it is!"

Confused and most likely offended he crossed his arms and sighed loudly.

"Whatever, art's about communication. Like writing and music. If I can't understand what it means, it's pointless."

"You didn't understand what the first one meant, and still, that one wasn't pointless to you."

He paused, considering it.

"Besides." I went on. "All of art, drawing and music and everything, isn't about the producer, it's about the receiver. What does it mean to _you_?"

He looked at it for a while.

"That you need to get a new hobby." He replied.

I rolled my eyes and leaned toward him.

"I like drawing things people don't notice." I told him. "It's the little things that make up a picture. So I drew my brothers. But just a bit of them. When Tobirama was about to go up to bat, that was what his eyes looked like, and when my other little brother, Itama, was watching him, he was excited so his hands looked like that. And the baseball... That's what connects them."

He nodded. At such close proximity to him, I could feel his hair brushing up against mine. Strangely, the tops of my ears felt like they were turning red because of the sensation. But before I questioned it, he prodded me.

"That weird haired kid in the wheelchair? That's your brother?" he inquired.

"Yup, that's him." I said.

We both looked down at Itama who, because Tobirama got his first strike, was slamming his fists down.

"Come on, dude! You could've socked that!" He yelled.

"I can see the family resemblance."

I laughed. "Whatever!"

"So, what happened to him?" Madara asked, handing me my binder back. "Broke both of his legs skateboarding or something?"

I laughed.

"I wish. If that were the case, then someone would know how to help him." I said.

My smile slowly faded.

"You've heard of the Manhattan Project, right? At Trinity?"

He gave me an odd look and then nodded.

"First nuclear bomb testing site... Actually, I'm more surprised _you've_ heard of it."

"That one bomb wasn't the end of it."

"I know that, too." He replied.

"My Mom and Dad used to live around the areas that they used to create new bombs at." I told him. "The bomb factories used to pretend they were clothing factories and hide all of their chemicals and stuff in the plant up the river. Then there was a leak... And all the water and soil and everything around the place got poisoned."

I folded my binder over, closing it against a chilly wind that came through.

"Everyone around there was probably infected with a crap load of radioactive waste. Like a millimeter a day or something? Just one or two or even twelve times, that's not too bad, but over a childhood, it starts adding up." I said. "My Mom got cancer when I was just born and died before I could even remember. And my Dad thought he was going to get it, too, but all that time, he didn't. When he married my stepmother, Hisa, and had my brothers over there, we thought everything would be fine. But it turns out, it wasn't too great after all."

The black haired kid with blue converse that Tobirama was talking to went up to bat, Madara's eyes traveled down to him momentarily.

"He got born with tumors on his spinal cord." I told him.

Madara's eyes snapped back to mine.

"The doctors said he wouldn't even live to be ten years old." I smiled. "But he's eleven now...so much for doctors who know what the heck they're talking about."

"But there's no cure for that?"

"There is." I told him. "But he's on a waiting list. We're not that well off. We can't even afford first class mail, so, medical insurance is like a freaking foreign language to us."

As I said that, I was reminded of the thing I knew that I never told my younger brothers. Hisa was aware of it, too. That if we didn't hurry up and get Itama off the list and into a hospital bed, he probably wouldn't live to be an adult. Then again, sometimes, with the way Itama talked about his life in past tense... I felt like he knew his body better than any of us.

"Both of your parent's don't work?" he asked.

"My mom works..."

She works way more than she should.

"And my Dad's not around." I said, scratching my hair. "He was K.I.A around...three years ago."

Madara's eyes traveled down to my notebook.

"Sorry about that."

I shrugged.

"'Nam's hell." I replied.

"War is hell." He responded. "Seems like...your life was pretty messed up by it."

"I'll say."

"My...brother's over there right now. My older brother."

"Really?" I asked. "What's his name?"

"Tsubasa." He replied. "But I doubt you've heard of him in the hero reports. He's such a pansy..."

I laughed.

"That's a crappy thing to say about your brother."

He rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, he's the last person that should be in a war-zone. The guy was going to throw his freaking draft card over the white house fence and hightail it to Canada if my Mom didn't stop him."

"Hey, man, just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't out to get you." I reminded him.

He smiled. It was a weird thing, seeing that guy finally genuinely smile. I hadn't realized it, but ever since I'd met him, I'd been shooting for that. Something real. Something rare. Something that would've been taken for granted, had I not been waiting for it.

I opened my binder again and started sketching, this time, not adding anything that wasn't around me. My masterpiece was right in front of me. I picture his smile in my head again and started sketching his lips first, the elongation of it, where it pulled and relaxed.

He wasn't looking toward me. His eyes were on the field again, watching that dark haired kid bat like a freaking prodigy samurai. It wasn't until then that I realized that boy was probably who he was here for.

Slowly, he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Can I ask you a question?" he wanted to know.

"It's not like if I say no, that'll stop you." I replied, snickering.

He ignored me, continuing to speak like I assumed he would.

"If you could think of any way to stop evil in the world, how would you do it?"

I paused on what I was drawing. It was like I was taking a test or something. I wanted to ask if I was going to be graded on my answer. But looking at the curiosity of his facial expression, I easily slipped back into my usual attitude.

"Systematically." I said. "Start with schools, try to indoctrinate as much as the younger generation as possible into a 'pure' way of thinking. And probably cut it out of television, like all the crime and war and pain and everything, only show kind, caring people. Only talk like there's kind and caring people in the world."

"So pump them full of idealism?" he asked.

I slowly looked up at him.

"I guess you could put it that way."

"What about actually attacking the evil outright?" he asked me. "What if you were to search out and destroy all the evil people around? Completely remove them from society?"

I tapped the eraser end of my pencil on my paper.

"That sounds like a black ops military mission." I said, smirking. "And here I thought you were sick of war."

"Kill it before it breeds." He said, shrugging. "That's life."

"No, that's chaotic." I clarified. "Unless you're Superman that is."

"A real life Superman would be really helpful in this circumstance."

I grinned at him.

"So, now you're waiting around for superheroes? And you didn't really seem like the comic book type to me either..."

"Shut-up." He retorted. "The point is... Starting with kids and tampering with the media seems alright in theory, but in practice, you'll end up like the Soviets and no one will be free."

"It's not like Nixon tells us the truth either. You just have the right people in charge." I protested.

He paused for a moment, and then nodded.

"Okay, say you have the right people in charge, right? People that actually do this without any selfish thoughts, even though that's impossible. You won't be creating a world of saints. You'll be creating a world of idiots. People who will never have seen an evil deed in their life. What if, somehow, evil breaks out again. They won't even know how to deal with it. It'll be a colossal culture shock."

I paused on moving up to draw his eyes and thought about what he was saying.

"I get it." I nodded. "This isn't just about war, is it? Because right now, you're sounding a hell of a lot like Malcolm X."

He smirked.

"In reference to what? Your Martin Luther King preaching?" He replied. "All he's done anyway is set the stage up for a million kids in forty or fifty years who will think racism never existed and it was all a fairy tale. I'm telling you, dude, huge culture shock. At least if Malcolm X was the guy everyone loves and remembers, racists wouldn't even exist."

"Yeah, because they'd all be dead and buried." I pointed out laughing. "And besides, wouldn't you be on the _bad _end of that logic?"

I began tracing the outline of his hair. Long, dark and wavy. He always had it parted in an angle that had his right eye almost completely hidden by the locks of hair falling over it. It was almost a bit past shoulder length.

"Eh, maybe." he said, then he shrugged. "I'm only a quarter white, mostly Japanese."

I squinted at him.

"I can kind of see it."

"What about you?" he asked.

"Japanese, Hawaiian mix. I guess we have a bit of something in common." I told him, smiling.

He scoffed.

"Yeah, we'd both be on the same deportation plane out of here during World War 2." He muttered.

Then he stretched and stood up.

"Thanks for answering my question anyway."

For some strange reason, I'd forgotten that we were still basically strangers. It was weird, having such off-the-wall conversations with a guy that you didn't even know yesterday. I stood up, too. I didn't really want it to be over. He was the only kid in my life I could say the word "systematically" to and not be either beat up or ignored.

"Uh... Maybe you want to...hang out tomorrow after school?" I asked him.

He looked over at me.

"I could show you around my side of town." I clarified.

"Sorry but no dice." He said. "I normally have to peel out right after school. I'm pretty busy."

"Oh."

"But maybe when you're finished with that drawing of me, I'll reconsider." He suggested.

I looked down, realizing I was holding my binder wide open exposing the second sketch I was doing of his head and shoulders. Again, I felt flustered. Even though I normally didn't get embarrassed about anything.

He jumped down off the row we were on and walked to the stairs. Everyone else was standing, too. It seemed like the tryouts were over. I slid my binder back into my brown, leather backpack and shrugged it on.

"Hashirama! Hey, down here!"

I hopped down the rows and crossed over to where Itama sat.

"What's up?"

"I think Tobi made it! Did you see that pitch he threw? Everyone's gotta know he's the best pitcher around!"

"Pitch? Oh, uh... I was kind of busy." I said as I grabbed his chair and wheeled him down the stairs.

"It was so totally far out!" Itama exclaimed.

As I pushed Itama up to the back exit of the stadium, Tobirama caught up to us.

"Did you make it?!" Itama asked immediately.

"I'll tell you when we get home!" Tobirama said, breathlessly.

His face was reddish from all the exercise and his white hair looked grayish as it stuck to his forehead.

"For all this bike riding we're doing to get home, you _better_ have made it." I told him.

"Crap. I forgot all about that."

"What are you guys complaining about? That was the best bike ride of my life!" Itama claimed.

We both exchanged glances and an impish grin spread on my face.

"I think it's about time to call the aliens to come back for you." I said, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, they should only be about two light years away, maybe even less..." Tobirama added.

"Guys quit it! I'm not an alien!" Itama cried out as we circled around to the bike racks on the side of the stadium.

"Itama? Itama is that you?" a voice echoed out into the night.

We all froze. Everyone knew that voice.

"Oh no... It's Mom." Tobirama said.

"Hide!" Itama squealed.

But it was too late, a woman with long white hair wearing a pair of really short and really tight turquoise shorts, black heels, and a fluttery white blouse walked up in front of us.

"Oh my god, boys! I was looking everywhere for you!"

She ran over, pulling us all into her arms. But then, in less than like five milliseconds, all that relief and happiness changed to the kind of expression that gets you grounded.

"What the heck were you guys thinking!?" she exclaimed. "I tried to get home as fast as I could and I get there and all is see is the food on the stove and nobody's home."

"We remembered to turn that off, right?" I said, glancing at Tobirama who shrugged.

"No, no, it was off but that's not the point!" she yelled. "Are you crazy? Did you really think it was safe to tie _ropes_ to Itama's wheelchair and_ pull_ it with you all the way here?!"

I opened my mouth to try to point out the fact that it had to have been safe or else she would've been yelling at us in the hospital but she went on. You know when Mother's are on a roll, you can never get them to shut the heck up.

"You all could've gotten hit by a car or mugged or kidnapped! I just... I can't even believe this! Just get your bikes and get in the car!"

Tobirama and I sighed and walked over to the bike rack. Behind us, she bent down and threw her arms around Itama.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm okay." He said.

"Are you sure? Are you hungry? Do you feel cold?" she asked as she pulled him out of his wheelchair to carry him.

It wasn't like Hisa played favorites or anything. She really didn't. But whenever it came to Itama, we were like ghosts in that house. And we never really felt bad or neglected about it but sometimes, especially in Tobirama's case, I could see a bit of tension there. I mean if it was Itama's doctor's appointment and not Tobirama's tryouts, she never would have forgotten. True, they were two completely different degrees of importance but still. It's just a bit unnerving.

"I am a little bit hungry." He told her.

And when Itama actually folded into that baby crap, it made it even more annoying. The reason why he was such a crybaby anyway was because of that. I could understand where Hisa was coming from. He wasn't like other kids, he was sick, he needed to be taken care of. But from my perspective, I wanted Itama to be able to live a normal life. If he really didn't make it to adulthood, I wanted him to have the best childhood a kid could ever ask for. Hisa wouldn't even allow herself to think of the possibility that he would die, though. I didn't think she would be able to live with herself if he did...if any of us did...

We put our bikes in the back with Itama's wheelchair.

As soon as we were all in the car, she started up again.

"I'm just so disappointed in you all. I mean, I would expect something ridiculous like this from Hashirama, but you, too, Tobi?"

He didn't say anything. I think that was because his exact words earlier were: "I think it's a stupid idea but whatever it takes to get to the stadium."

"You're both grounded." She said. "For two weeks."

See, didn't I say grounding is what usually happens when Mother's get on a roll?

"What?!" Tobirama exclaimed. "But-

"No buts!" she interjected.

Problem is, Tobirama doesn't know the meaning of the phrase "no buts".

"But that's not even fair, Mom!" he went on. "It's your fault all of this happened anyway!"

The car was silent. Leave it to Tobirama to turn a simple lecture into a household powwow.

She sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"Look, I know I'm not there for you guys as much as I should be." She said. "But all the money your father had from going to war is all gone now and even though I don't want to, I have to work."

We knew that, though.

"I don't know if you guys noticed but our little family isn't doing so well."

Itama hiccupped, I looked over to see him rubbing his eyes. Probably more because he was sad that he was getting scolded than because of anything that was being said.

"It's just going to be a lot of sacrifice... I wish I could be there to cook dinner and help you with homework and see your ball games but, I can't. And if I do, then we'll be living on the streets."

From where I sat, next to her in the passengers seat, I could see the tears rimming on her eyes, making her eyeliner run slightly. Her make-up was so heavy it almost looked clown-like.

"I'm sorry." Tobirama said quietly.

It was silent for a while and then she sniffed and shook the tears away.

"I'm sorry, too." She said, then she paused. "So...did you make the team?"

Tobirama was silent for a moment. And then, suddenly, he reached into his bag and pulled out a orange and black "Konoha Killers" baseball t-shirt.

"Heck Yeah!" he exclaimed.

"Yes! I KNEW you made it!" Itama exclaimed.

"Now, let's just see how many strike outs you get before they kick you back off." I joked.

"Whatever!" Tobirama said, pulling the shirt on over his head. "Coach says I'm the best pitcher they've seen in years! We're gonna end up going national 'cause of me!"

I scoffed.

"In your dreams." I said mockingly, but it was all for good fun.

In the backseat, my younger brothers' eyes shined brightly, fawning over the brightly colored shirt and talking about other team members. I couldn't help but smile as I turned to the front and saw Hisa, glancing at them through the rear-view mirror, and sporting a characteristic smile. That "I love my kids" smile. Even though she was busy and couldn't be fifty places at once, that smile still made up for it in a way.

"I'm so proud of you, Tobi." She told him.

Tobirama responded by grinning from ear to ear.

So, you're probably thinking everything was cool beans from then on out, right? Wrong. We were STILL grounded for two weeks... Ugh... Mothers...

**Madara**

**Premonition **

"Hey."

I blinked, a beam of bright, yellow sunlight streamed through trees. I wiped the dirt off my black slacks. The long sleeved black buttoned down shirt I wore was slightly stained with water. I looked up, through the canopy of large, luscious green trees above me to see droplets of dew falling off the palm trees over head.

"Hey." The same voice said again.

I turned my head, looking up at the beholder of the voice. He grinned down at me, fingers interlocked on the top of his dark green combat helmet.

_Tsubasa?_

"Were you riding my motorcycle, kiddo?" he asked me. "I told you if you and Izuna didn't straighten up, I wouldn't take you to the carnival when I get home."

The AK-47 on the holster on his back shook as he laughed, seemingly at nothing, and he shrugged, making the sleeves of his army patterned uniform fall down.

"But what can I say, huh? You always do whatever you want, selfish little brat."

He reached down and ruffled my hair fondly. Then turned, walking off.

"I'm going home, alright, kiddo?"

_...Going home? The war... Is it...over?_

I blinked after him as he weaved in and out of the thick, dark green jungle vines. A bright whitish yellow sunlight filled the space behind him. I raised my arm to shade my eyes and it wasn't until then that I realized his outfit changed. The war costume had suddenly turned into a full white tuxedo with a white shirt and black bow tie. With the combat helmet off of his head, I could see his short cut, light brown hair framing his face in waves. Just like my other older brother, they'd both inherited my mother's hair. His onyx eyes widened brightly at me.

"I'll see you when you come home." He said, waving.

_Come home...? But Tsubasa, I'm already home. _You're_ the one that's..._

I leaned forward, grabbing at the moist, brown dirt and struggled to my feet.

_I feel... heavy... Why... Why do I feel so heavy...?_

I stumbled over to him, taking half of my energy just to raise my arm.

_Tsubasa, wait!_

I wanted to call out to him but my mouth, even though it kept opening and closing, opening, closing... No sound would come out. I tried to force it. Tried to push it. But there wasn't any way. I couldn't speak. I couldn't run either. I could only stumble along as he walked with his hands on top of his head in that carefree way he always did. I grabbed at the base of the thick jungle trees trying to pull myself closer but then a flock of white doves burst from a nearby shrub and swirled around me. I turned, losing my balance, feeling like there was no ground beneath me and began to fall. I expected to feel the firm earth come up to meet my face but it didn't.

"Madara."

Someone had caught me. Someone had me in their arms. They steadied me and I pulled myself up, coming face to face with...

_It's him._

He grinned at me vibrantly, face barely centimeters from mine.

"Don't worry, Madara. I'll keep it forever. I swear." He promised me, all smiles.

"Hashirama..."

_What did he mean by that?_

"...Hashirama..."

"What?" a voice asked.

I blinked. The dim, yellow overhead lights of the classroom flooded into my view. I rolled my head around, feeling a soreness in my neck, indicating I'd probably been sleeping in that position for a while. As I raised my head, I realized my loose leaf paper was stuck to my face.

"What?" the voice repeated.

I turned to my right to see Hashirama staring at me. The class was empty except for the two of us. He cocked his head, giving me a weird look.

"Huh?" I mumbled.

"You were saying my name." He clarified, then he grinned. "Were you sleeping?"

I pulled the paper off my face and turned my head so he couldn't see me rubbing the crust out of my eyes.

"No." I muttered.

He laughed.

"Yeah, you were! And you were saying my name in your sleep!" He declared.

I wiped my mouth on my jacket sleeve and rolled my eyes.

"You were all like: 'Oh, Hashirama! You're so dreamy!'" he said, roaring with laughter.

"SHUT-UP!" I yelled. "I wasn't even dreaming about you! It was my brother!"

He smirked.

"Yeah, right. Didn't you say your brother's name was Subaru or something?"

"Tsubasa." I corrected him with a scowl.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms and sighing. My eyes surveyed the rest of the room. On the board in front of us were the words: "I Will Not Skip Detention" and instructions to write that sentence on paper 300 times.

It had been almost three weeks since school started and I met that guy, Hashirama. We hadn't really talked again ever since that one time at the Little League tryouts when I caught him drawing a portrait of me.

_...That was _so_ creepy._

But because both of our younger brothers made the team, we saw each other at practices often, even though we never really sat near each other. Also, even though I didn't know for sure, I got the feeling he drew me often.

_...That would be _really_ creepy._

But because of that one time we skipped detention, somehow, damn Mr. Uzumaki found out about it and forced us to do it again, this time, with those stupid writing instructions. So, suddenly, I was back in his presence again.

"Do you think they have cameras around here?" Hashirama asked.

He was balancing on the two back legs of his chair and had his feet up on the desk.

"Probably. How else would they find out?" I asked him.

_But they must be really shitty cameras for it to have taken them almost until October to realize we'd skipped detention on the first friggin' day of school..._

He had that bright red binder on his lap and looked over at me as I answered. But even after I finished speaking, he gazed at me for a while, like he was considering something. His pencil tapped against the paper.

"Yeah..." he said, trailing off, seeming to be deep in thought.

_He's clearly drawing me again._

He looked back down at his paper and moved his eraser across the page.

_And it's so friggin' creepy._

"Who taught you how to draw?" I asked, balling the paper I was copying the sentence on up.

"No one." He replied.

"So, what? You're like a new aged Michelangelo or something?"

"Is that a complement?" He asked as he put his chair back down right, stood up, and walked over to me.

But before I could reply, he outstretched his arm, revealing one of the sheets of blank white paper he drew on.

"Here." Was all he said.

I raised my eyebrows, reaching for the white page and turning it over. Like I suspected, it was a drawing of me, sketched in pencil, but _very_ detailed. Incredibly detailed. It was like he'd studied every pore on my face, every wrinkle, every eyelash, every hair. And even past that, the slope and scale of my features were sketched out to the bone.

_This is...unbelievable. _

But those things weren't what grabbed me the most. It was my facial expression. In the picture, I was smiling. Or more so like grinning. It was like I was having the time of my life. My eyes were lit up in excitement and my teeth were clearly visible. And even the minute things there, he'd documented and drawn. Strangely, as I looked at it, I felt differently about him. Instead of seeing it as a really, really creepy hobby, I felt a different emotion...

_He'd really taken the time to study me like this?_

I wasn't sure what that emotion was but it wasn't negative, that was certain.

"You said you'd consider hanging out with me once I finished it." He reminded me.

_Christ, this guy is desperate. I was _kidding_ about that... _

"...So you kept at it for three whole weeks?"

He smiled.

"Nah. I finished that the same night." He said. "But..."

He shrugged.

"I didn't really know how to get your attention again." He admitted.

_That much detail just off of seeing me two times? But if that's the case, then all this time I thought he was drawing me, he must've been drawing something else. _

"It's..." I swallowed. "Alright... I guess."

"Just alright?" he inquired.

_No... It's perfect._

I rolled my eyes.

"What do you want, a _cookie_? Yeah, it's _alright_." I replied, staring him off.

"You're an asshole." He said, but his smile returned, signaling that he wasn't offended.

"Yeah, and you're a friggin' weirdo. What else is new?"

I took the drawing, holding it carefully and slipping it into the front pouch of my leather black backpack.

"Anyway, it's about the time we're supposed to get out of here, right?" I said. "I have shit to take care of."

"Right... That mysterious thing you always have to do every day after school." He said.

I looked over at him, but he wasn't looking at me, he was pushing his binder into his backpack.

_Why does he sound kind of...bitter?_

I threw the paper ball at him. It sailed through the air and landed on top of his head.

"Need a ride home?" I asked him.

"With your illegal motorcycle riding license? I think I'll pass." He said, smirking slightly.

I crossed my arms.

"Who said it was illegal anyway?!"

"Common sense." He replied, still smirking.

"It's your loss..." I said, sliding my hands into the pockets of my red and white boxing shorts.

I grabbed my leather backpack, slipped my sunglasses on and pressed my hand against the door. As it swung back, a loud noise came from the other side.

"Ow!"

I stumbled back, surprised to see I was walking into Mr. Uzumaki. He rubbed his foot and then looked down at me, eyes narrowing at my "about to blow this off" look.

_Shit..._

"He was going to the bathroom?" Hashirama offered from his seat where he, like such a fast cockroach, sat back down before he could get caught.

"Come to the office with me, Mr. Uchiha." He said. "Right away. And you, Mr. Senju, you can pack up and head home."

I sighed, crossing my arms as I was led away. I was never really frightened of getting disciplined at school. Then again, I never got into any real trouble. Just petty stuff like being rude to other students, usually girls because they were so damn sensitive and almost always told, or somehow getting caught cursing or yelling or being 'unnecessarily abrasive' during gym class when you're supposed to be abrasive, it's friggin' dodge ball... But never anything on my record. And even all that petty stuff only recently started when I began high school...

_That's when I decided I hated the world... That's when I decided I wanted it to change..._

But I was blown almost completely speechless when Mr. Uzumaki opened the door to the main office and, instead of the Dean or the Principal or some kind of disciplinary figure, my mother and father were standing there. My friggin' parents.

_Is skipping detention really this important?_

My mother actually had herself put together for once. She wore a short, bright orange and yellow dress, like the ones she used to wear when I was younger, and had a large orange flower in her long, wavy brown hair, fit with a woven sunhat. She pursed her lips, bright red with lipstick as I walked in, and nodded curtly at me.

My father always looked the same. Ever since I could remember, he'd worn a suit and tie every day. That day, it was a more casual look though. His dark gray slacks were matched with a white shirt, which had the sleeves rolled up, a black tie, which he'd loosened, and a suit jacket, which he had thrown over his shoulder. He didn't look at me at all.

"Your parents are here to pick you up." Mr. Uzumaki said, then he outstretched his hand to my father. "It's quite an honor to meet you, Mr. Uchiha, this town has heard so many great things from you."

My father looked at his hand like it was the most putrid thing on Earth, and nodded at him.

"Your comment is appreciated." He said, before he walked over to me. "Let's go, Madara."

I nodded, sliding my hands into my pockets as we all left the office and walked down the hallway.

"Why did you guys decide to pick me up?" I asked. "I drove the motorcycle here."

My mother crossed her arms.

"Didn't I tell you to stop riding that thing?" she asked.

"No." I muttered. "You never said that."

"I'll drive it home." My father answered. "Get in the car with your Mother."

_What the hell is going on? _

They stood on either side of me, basically sandwiching me in. I just so happened to glance around the hallway as we got to the exit doors and my eyes locked on one person, probably the last kid in the entire school besides me, putting their things into their locker. He turned and looked at me, raising his eyebrows.

_It's Hashirama, again..._

"Madara. Come on." My Father ordered.

I turned away from him and walked under my father's arm as he held the door open for me. I had gotten taller since the last time I'd seen him, but it was a mark of how short I still was that I could still walk under his arm. He and my mother both curtly turned different ways as soon as they stepped outside and, like usual, I was looking after both of them, waiting, and then, at the last second, turning and going with my mother.

I got into the passenger's seat of her old Volvo and before I could even close the door, she was already backing up and flooring it across the parking lot.

"Crap, Mom!" I yelled. "Are you trying to _kill _us?"

She whipped the wheel to the left not even bothering to fully stop for the stop sign and sped out onto the road.

"I guess you're finally finding your Asian roots." I muttered.

"Shut up." She muttered, then she snapped her fingers at me and pointed.

I sighed, picking the cigarette carton up off of the dash and handing it to her.

"That bastard father of yours..." she muttered.

_That's like her favorite sentence anytime he comes around. It's always 'bastard father' this and 'bastard father' that... I'm always waiting for the day she looks in the mirror and says 'bitch mother'._

"Why is he here?" I asked.

She lit the cigarette and said nothing. I didn't even really expect her to. I rolled the window down and turned my head outside, enjoying the feeling of the wind lifting my hair off of my forehead.

The car was completely silent until we began to drive a bit slower past an abandoned parking lot the surrounding neighborhood kids normally played pick-up games of dodge ball, baseball and soccer in. As I suspected, there were around thirty or so kids there of all ages, with their backpacks scattered around, leaning up against posts or a fence in the distance, and their jackets tied around their waists, using piles of sneakers as makeshift baseball diamonds. My mother honked the horn loudly and then leaned over me to push her head out of the window.

"IZUNA!" she exclaimed. "GET YOUR ASS IN THIS CAR!"

One of the kids, the one wearing a helmet and holding a bat, got out of his batting stance and shielded his eyes against the sun. Seeming to mutter something depressing, he slowly found his shoes among the other kids, picked his backpack and skateboard up and rolled over to us.

The sun beamed off of his burnt red, overall bellbottoms as he skated up carrying the characteristically care-free expression of a twelve year old.

"I thought you didn't have a license, Mom." He said, staring at her in the driver's seat.

"Get in the damn car." She said, tapping the cigarette litter out of the car.

"You're going to jail." He told her, before he got into the backseat.

"Explain, Mother." I tried again as we pulled off. "Why are you picking us up? And what the hell is Dad doing back?"

"Dad's back!?" Izuna exclaimed, leaning forward in his chair.

"Yeah." I told him. "They both picked me up from school. Even though it makes no sense that either of you even knew I was there, Mother of the Year..."

"Oh, _whatever_, Madara." My mother said, turning to me with exasperation. "The school calls the house when you have detention. And Izuna plays baseball with the same damn kids after school _every_ day. I know where my goddamn kids are, alright? So stop all of your shitty prepubescent 'woe is me' bullshit!"

A screech of silence whipped through the car. Izuna still sat forward, most likely confused as whether to pursue his question or leave it.

"If I wasn't in detention you wouldn't know where I was." I muttered.

I saw her hands tighten around the steering wheel.

"Madara shut your fucking mouth. You're pissing me off." She grumbled.

"Just admit it." I retorted. "You probably answered that phone call on accident when you were strung out on booze and shit in the living room..."

"Wait! Is it Tsubasa?!" Izuna suddenly asked.

His voice had cracked and gone high pitched momentarily because of his excitement.

"That's it, isn't it? It's a big surprise! Tsubasa came home!" Izuna exclaimed, then he pumped his fists. "That's the only reason Dad would come back! Yes!"

_Wait, Tsubasa...?_

I turned to her. I saw the expression on her face. The way she flicked her hair out of her eyes with unnecessary force while Izuna was talking. The way she blinked rapidly and bit her lip.

_Dad wouldn't come home because Tsubasa came back... How would Dad even _know _Tsubasa came back... Unless..._

Izuna was still grinning.

"I can wait to tell him that I got on the Little Leauge Team just like he used to be! And that I'm a batter, too!"

"Now, I get it..." I muttered.

My mother looked over at me. Her eyes narrowed. We both knew what each other knew. And that was enough.

"So what? You think now you can actually be a Mother that's worth shit? After all this time? Just out of necessity?" I asked her. "We're all going to die if we stay under the roof of this house with you. You're going to kill all of us."

I snatched the cigarette from her hand and tossed it out of the window.

"Madara will you grow the fuck up!?" she hollered at me, finally turning to look at me. "Everything isn't all black and fucking white!"

"You think I don't know that?! I figured that out first hand when you decided you'd rather drink yourself into an early grave than be caught dead being a mother like how you're supposed to!"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!?" She yelled at me. "Did you want me to watch my son run off to Canada and end up going to jail?!"

"At least if Tsubasa was in jail, he'd be ALIVE, you friggin' bitch!" I shouted at her.

There was a split second where I wasn't sure what would happen next. Everything in the car seemed to freeze. Then she turned to me, tears rimming her eyes and the back of her hand caught swiftly across my face.

"Shut up!" she shouted. "Shut your fucking mouth!"

She hit me again.

"You ungrateful little piece of shit! I do everything for you! I put food on the table, clothes on your back!"

"You don't do shit!" I yelled, smacking her hand away. "Except collect the money Dad's grateful enough to still send over to your pitiful ass!"

"And you always put your bastard father on this high fucking pedestal!" she continued slapping at me, the car swerved. "Where the hell was he when Tsubasa was leaving?! Where the hell was he when you had your stupid elementary school graduations or your stupid doctor's appointments!? Huh?!"

"Mom, stop it!" Izuna yelled from the backseat.

Her words began to hinge into the hysteria of sobbing as she hit me, slaps turning raw as her hands balled into fists.

"Where the hell was he when Taiga and Itsuya died!? I busted my ass for you guys! And you respect the son of a bitch that LEFT?! That didn't even have the balls to fucking tough it out like a MAN!?"

"Mom, stop hitting him! You're hurting him!" Izuna shouted, a growing bit of bass edging into his voice.

She shoved me, letting me go. The cars around us were honking and swerving the entire time in an attempt to avoid the collision she was bent on creating. But somehow, we survived.

I could feel the fingernail marks on my face and arms. The skin around them swelling and bruising.

The car came to a stoplight and, strangely, she actually stopped for it. I could hear Izuna sniffling in the backseat. I felt a twinge of guilt that he'd seen what he just did.

"Guys... What did you mean by 'at least he would be alive'?" Izuna asked tentatively.

His voice was solid but the shakiness of it gave away the tears most likely sliding down his cheeks.

_This is too much... _

My mother leaned up on the steering wheel. A tear fell into her match, destroying the next attempt she was trying to make at lighting a cigarette.

"...Madara?" Izuna asked.

_I can't take this..._

I pulled the handle of the car door and forced the door open. Without even looking back, I slammed the door and ran off, not even really sure what part of town I was in or what direction I was going, though, there was only really one place I ever went when I was depressed. It had become a habit after the first of my siblings died.

_I can't take it anymore._

Up Next: Well...damn. Poor Madara. But never fear, next time, Hashirama's coming to the rescue! But... Will their next encounter lead to something _MORE_? Hmmm... I hope you're tingling with as much excitement as they will be!


	3. Chapter 3

**Hashirama**

**Boxing**

I lay on the couch with my feet kicked up in the air running my pencil along the white page. The scent of dinner wafted through the area, tinging on slightly burnt. I raised my head.

"Tobi, are you frying that?" I asked.

"I know how to cook mac and cheese, brother." He said in that matter-of-factly tone he always used.

Don't you hate smart-ass little siblings? They think they're so rad because they just learned sarcasm like yesterday.

Itama sat on the couch next to me flipping through the channels.

"The RoadRunner's on, Hashi." He informed me. "Check it out!"

I turned to see a coyote darting for a bird only to run into a brick wall that was only painted to look like a tunnel with the bird standing there. He pulled back, teeth in his mouth shattered and falling out. I laughed along with Itama. He really loved that show for some reason.

"Shouldn't Mommy be home now?" he asked. "It's almost nine 'o clock."

"Her second job most likely runs late into the night." I told him.

He sat up in his bright red footy pajamas and frowned.

"I don't like her new job. She always smells weird when she comes home."

She was the one who picked Itama up and put him to bed so he would be the one most familiar with her scent. In actuality, I hadn't even noticed that detail.

"What does she smell like?" I asked him, finally paying full attention.

He shrugged.

"I don't know what to call it. It's just weird."

I lifted my head, from the kitchen, Tobirama paused in stirring the mac and cheese and was listening to us. When he saw me looking at him, he gave me a knowing look. I nodded back at him.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Itama." I said, then I grinned. "You probably just smelled your upper lip."

Tobirama snorted from the kitchen.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

I reached over and tugged on one of his rabbit ears. He was dressed like such a baby, wearing those full pajamas. Not only did they cover his feet, they extended over the sides of his head and pulled up into these big-ass red rabbit ears like he was wearing a cap. It looked dumb but we didn't pick on it because we didn't want to depress him or anything.

Tobirama dropped a plate of mac and cheese into his lap and tugged on the other ear.

"You look like such a goon wearing this."

Well, we didn't pick on him _all_ the time for it...

I grabbed the other plate from him and he sat down on my other side. I slid the drawing I was working on, face down, and onto the floor as we dug into our food.

"Wait. Mom always says we have to pray over the food first." Tobirama reminded us.

"Thanks God!" I declared.

"'Fanks Gob" Itama repeated, mouth already stuffed with food.

Tobirama rolled his eyes, leaned over me, and snatched the remote from Itama.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

"You snooze, you lose." He said, flipping the channel.

I was only watching it half-heartedly as he went on. I was more so interested in finishing my food as quickly as I could so I could get back to drawing but then, I saw something that look familiar in a sense.

"Hey, wait... Go back." I said.

He flipped backwards and the channel settled, slowly coming into focus.

"...And now that we've shown their brave faces, accompanying it are their names and ages." The announcer said.

"Ew. This is the news." Itama said.

Tobirama cocked his head.

"Isn't it all the people that were K.I.A this week?" He asked. "I heard the toll was pretty high."

I leaned forward in my seat as the camera slowly zoomed in on the list of names on the white board.

"Keep going, Tobi, this is boring." Itama said.

"Wait..." I said.

Toward the end of the list of about forty names, in the U section... The very first name read:

Tsubasa Uchiha. Age 18.

Tobirama's eyes widened.

"That's..."

I stood up, moving my plate off of my lap as I did and dropping it on the end table.

"Watch Itama." I told him, finding my shoes at the door. "I'll be back later."

"You better make it home before Mom does." Tobirama said.

I gave him a look.

"It'd be impossible to make it home later than her at this rate."

"Where you going?" Itama asked, looking completely confused.

I smirked at him.

"Up yours." I replied to which he immediately pouted.

I pulled my jacket on and slammed the door behind me trying to remember where he said he lived. The owls hooted over me and I could've sworn I saw a bat perched up on the roof. Now, if you know anything about horror stories, bats and owls are not good omens...

-Twelve Years Later, when I finally gave up trying to remember where he lived, went inside and found a phone book-

I walked through the freshly cut, green grass on the lawn and up to the porch. The guy's house was gigantic, I kid you not. Godzilla and his friggin' five kids could've lived there if they wanted to. I found myself wondering why he never struck me as a rich kid before. I pushed the doorbell to the two story home and walked around on the large porch. I could smell a scent coming from the inside of the house, something saucy, like ribs or steamed greens. A scent that smelled like home.

The door swung open and a woman glared down at me.

Suddenly all that nice smell went right out the window and I was met with a horribly strong stench of alcohol and cigs. I couldn't believe it was coming from her, despite the nice sundress she was wearing.

"Isn't it too late to be selling boy scouts?" she grumbled.

She had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes and looked nothing like Madara in the face but, strangely, more I looked at her, the more I could sense a slight resemblance to him. I wasn't sure where it was coming from...

She snapped her fingers in my face.

"Are you dead?" she asked.

Oh. Of course. It's that rude, asshole-like attitude.

"I'm looking for Madara." I said.

But I couldn't blame her. How else would anyone act on the night their son died?

"Hell if I know where he is." She muttered, looking away from me.

But when I said his name, I could see something in her eyes. Something...apologetic maybe?

"For what reason, may I ask, is the front door open?" asked a voice.

The voice sounded like a sharp difference from the woman's. It was masculine and prim and proper.

"One of Madara's little friends is here."

"Friends?" the voice continued. "I thought Kagami was his only friend."

I tilted, looking around her to get a good look at him as he approached. His outfit matched his voice. Who the hell wears a suit inside their own house?

"Shows how much you know about your own damn son."

"Please, woman. You were _just_ as surprised to find him at the door, weren't you?" he asked. "Furthermore, you're a _woman_. You're _supposed_ to know things about your children. It's your job."

She crossed her arms.

"And what? A father's duty is walking from here to fucking Timbuktu whenever he wants?!" she retorted.

It was quick, but I saw his fist ball... In a threatening way. And even slighter, there was a swift flinch in her. A bit of movement backward. The man, seeing me watching them, gave me one of the fakest smiles I've ever seen in my life.

"I do appreciate your concern for our son, boy, but as you can see, he's unavailable at the moment." He said.

The guy sounds like an answering machine.

"Now, if you'll excuse us..." He said, beginning to close the door.

"Who is it?" said a voice.

A smaller hand pushed between the two of them and pressed against the glass. I stepped back as little boy in a rusty red bellbottom jumpsuit surfaced. His eyebrows popped up.

"Oh, I know you."

I blinked.

"You do?"

He nodded and pointed.

"You're the boy who's always watching Madara."

Watching? Now, if there's a better definition of creepy, I'd really like to hear it.

"Do you know where he could be? I... I just... I really want to find him." I told the kid.

Maybe I sounded slightly desperate. But the woman crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please..."

And his father scratched his hair awkwardly.

"The boy's a loner. He runs off all the time. There's no cause for concern." He said in a fake reassuring tone.

"The Boxing Arena." The boy replied.

Strangely, I had begun to seriously doubt anyone knew where he was. Especially if he didn't want to be found. But then suddenly, that kid just came out with it.

"He always goes there to blow off steam." He told me.

I nodded.

"Thanks." I turned, then paused and looked at them all. "Sorry for your loss."

Because of the way they'd all been acting, like it was a normal day, I'd almost begun to wonder if, somehow, there was another Tsubasa Uchiha in the world and I'd gotten everything all wrong. But once I said that. Once I definitively stated why I was even there. I could see it. His mother bit her bottom lip and ran her hand through her hair. Her other hand went into the pocket of her dress and out came a liquor bottle. His father turned around, not even offering me a wave goodbye and faded into the house beyond. And his little brother's face scrunched up and he blinked rapidly, like something was in his eye, and nodded hard at me.

I turned and ran down the driveway, not too surprised to feel their eyes on my back the entire way I walked down the street.

-A millennium later when I realized I didn't know where the Boxing Arena was, went to a phone booth, and looked it up-

I dropped my bike in front of an old white building in Downtown WestSide Konoha where people get mugged just for stepping two feet outside their houses and the bustling traffic, beeping buses, honking cabs and stoplight jingles were basically the national anthem. Lights were everywhere, high and low, red lights, orange lights, yellow lights, white lights, all making up the fabric of this hilly, smoky, dirty feeling city. I honestly never thought I'd miss the zone of idle suburbia I lived in until I saw the alternative.

I walked up to the large, black metallic doors of the building, slightly depressed when I saw the hours on scrawled on a laminated sheet of paper on the door:

Open from 9am to 9pm

By that time it was nearly 10pm. There weren't any windows on the front of the building but I could hear something coming from inside. Something dull, like low talking? I wound around to the side, kicking the gravel and poking around. The place didn't look too big from the front but the back seemed to stretch on for miles. After about two days of walking, I got to a tree that was old enough for me to climb and close enough to the building that I could reach a window that was thankfully, slightly open.

"I'm lucky I'm in shape..." I muttered as I climbed up the trunk.

My fingers stuck into the grooves and I turned, looking at the window.

"Well, this looks kind of far..."

It really did, too. Things always look safer when both feet are on the ground than otherwise. I leaned toward it, reaching just to gauge the distance and then I smirked.

"This isn't that big of a deal."

I swung back for some leverage and then jumped, reaching for the ledge and planting my feet firmly on the side of the building. Then, with one arm holding my weight, I shoved the window open higher up and pulled myself into the building.

"I should become an escape artist for a living." I said, brushing small twigs and dirt off my clothes.

A couple of voices wafted up to me. I walked through what looked like a workout room. The floor was completely patted down with mats and the walls were layered with mirrors. A million Hashirama's stared at me as I walked out of the room, like a creepy old fun-house at a carnival.

"Okay, I'm coming at you with full force this time..." said a voice I wasn't familiar with.

I walked through a dark hallway, with the only light coming from the end. As I neared the light the voice got clearer.

"You ready?"

"Of course, I'm ready. Just come on!"

But I was familiar with that voice. I picked up my pace, turning the corner and coming into the main room of the Boxing Arena. Like any arena should have, there was a ring. But there weren't any ropes around it. The way the building was, the second floor was open so that it was more like a circular balcony than an actual floor. I could see straight down onto them.

Madara bounced on his toes circling the guy who he was talking to. The other guy didn't have on boxing gloves though, he had on some other things with flat surfaces. On the guy's mark, Madara darted for him, punching at the soft, cushion barricades the guy had covering his hands as fast as he could.

The guy put his hands up.

"Two." He said.

Madara punched at the gloves twice.

"Four"

He punched four times.

"Six"

He went at him six times, falling into smooth rhythm. The guy kept going up by multiples of two until they got to twelve, around then, the guy started moving back against him, not actually to hit him, but once he moved his arm forward, Madara dodged that like it was a real attack, and when he moved it over his head, he ducked, too.

Around the time they got to twenty, his arms were moving so fast and he was skipping around on his toes so smoothly, I could barely keep up with him... And I was just watching.

I descended the stairs behind the ring, making sure to keep quiet so that they didn't notice me but they were so deep in the zone, I felt like I could've tap danced down the stairs and they still wouldn't have noticed me.

"Whoo!" the guy exclaimed. "That was good practice, kid. You're getting really good. Are you sure you haven't been practicing?"

Madara straightened up and cracked his neck.

"Nope."

"Hell, man." The guy said, turning around and jumping down off the stage. "You're going to be even better than Tsubasa when he gets home. That guy's going to be shocked."

Madara stared after him, face suddenly hard and expressionless. Not that he was a beacon of happy expression in the first place.

"Anyway, I'm heading out. It's after gym hours so I actually shouldn't leave you in here but since you're Tsubasa's baby bro, I trust you." Then he smirked. "But the thing is, if you mess anything up, I know where you live anyway, so..."

Madara had turned around and gone back to practicing, punching at nothing.

"See ya small fry!" he called before he pushed the big black double doors open and walked out.

I stood there watching as he kept bouncing around on his toes, moving through uppercuts and jabs and hooks. Suddenly, he paused and looked over at my direction. Startled, I jumped back, ducking behind the wall.

It was silent. Well, out there, inside my head I was screaming, cursing myself for standing in plain sight. But then again, wasn't the point of this to talk to him anyway?

"Hashirama..."

I stiffened, peeking around the corner.

"...Stop hiding from me."

It may have been the way he said it. It was...a hopeless kind of way. I don't know. I kind of felt obligated to show myself after that. I stepped out into the light and walked forward. He stared at me. I stared at him. And then he went back to punching at nothing again.

I slowly walked up to the ring and put my hands on the slightly bouncy but mostly firm floor he was standing on. The ring came up to my waist, so I could lean on it easily.

"How did you find me?"

I shrugged.

"Your little brother said you'd be here?"

He faulted momentarily, stuttering in his rhythm but caught back on again quickly.

"You went to my house?" he asked.

"Sorry, I thought it was a free country!" I exclaimed.

He said nothing. Every now and then, when his hair would get in his eyes, he'd bring a glove up and pull it back. It wasn't until I'd gotten that close to him that I realized he was shirtless. The plain white t-shirt he'd worn with his boxing shorts to school that day was hanging on a pole next to me.

"So I guess..." he continued punching. "You met my piece of shit mom and never gave a fuck dad, huh?"

I smiled.

"You're forgetting your 'crybaby' brother." I told him. "But don't worry, I have one of those, too."

As he moved around, I got a closer look at his face, realizing he had a couple welts there. Like someone had scratched at him. He paused momentarily shaking his fists out.

I wanted to ask what he had against his parents but he started up again and I lost my opportunity.

My eyes drifted from his long, wavy dark hair, that, everyday, was threatening to pass his shoulders, and zeroed in on his chest. Slightly shiny with sweat, the impacts in them, curved and cut to precision. Momentarily, I began to wonder if I was completely wrong about being in shape. I mean, I didn't have abs like that.

But the more I watched him, the more I started to feel... Inexplicable. The other times I'd watched him, it was just interest. Interest in what he may be thinking or who he might be. But for some really, really strange reason... I was starting to feel an interest for... I wasn't really sure what.

"Why are you always staring at me?"

I blinked. He'd stopped practicing and was looking down at me with a hand on his hip.

"You don't have the excuse of trying to draw me this time."

"Isn't it more like _you're _watching _me_?" I asked him.

He gave me a dumbfounded look.

"How else would you know I was looking your direction?" I asked, pulling a folded towel off the stage edge and throwing it to him.

He caught it and rolled his eyes.

"Shut up."

He walked toward me and sat down on the edge of the stage. I pulled myself up next to him and he frowned, probably seeing both of our feet dangle above the floor. Sucks when there are cockroaches with longer legs than you.

"Anyway, the reason I'm here." I began. "I..."

I picked at a loose fiber in the stage mat.

"I guess I should say something like 'Sorry', right?" I asked, feeling out of place.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "That someone died?"

I watched as he dragged the towel through his hair.

"Death happens."

He finished drying himself and tossed it to the ground.

"What was he like?" I found myself asking.

"A wuss." Madara replied. "I told you already, he tried to ditch service when he was first drafted. My other older brother went in with his head held high."

I raised my eyebrows.

"You have another brother?"

"I have four." He told me, then he paused. "Well... I had four."

It felt like the beginning of a story. You know, that segue... So I waited.

"Taiga was the eldest one out of all of us. He'd always wanted to go the military. He used to go to the shooting ranges and practice there all the time and go hunting with his pals and stuff. His nickname was 'the hunter'. Pretty fitting. He was a lot like that. Didn't care about anything except his next prey."

"I bet he was pretty good in there then."

He nodded.

"He was. He won lots of awards and medals and stuff. That was back when my parents could actually stand the sight of each other so they adored him. Loved talking about him to visitors and stuff." He cracked a smile. "When we were all young, we all wanted to grow up and be just like him. Until he came back."

I was thinking along the lines off lost limbs, wheelchair bound, brain dead... Something really horrific, but Madara said...

"It wasn't like he didn't look like him. He looked just fine. But he wasn't him." Madara said. "Everyone could feel it even though no one wanted to talk about it. It was just strange around him. He'd zone out a lot. And back when he used to share a bedroom with Tsubasa, he said he heard him crying in his sleep all the time."

"He must've been depressed." I realized.

"Yeah, probably." Madara said. "He acted really weird around kids. He would even look at me, Izuna or my other little brother, Itsuya and anytime any of the neighborhood kids came around, he'd go lock himself up in his room."

"They say there's soldiers in 'Nam younger than our little brothers." I pointed out.

"Yeah... He probably killed a lot more of them than he'd like to think about." He agreed. "But my Mom really wanted him to get out of the house. She thought the best way to do it would be to have him and my little brother Itsuya join this stupid summer camp."

"Not all of you?" I asked.

Strangely a smile spread across his face.

"Of course not. Tsubasa is the definition of a pretty boy. He wouldn't be caught dead at a camp. And Izuna was doing T-ball then and I was in this stupid junior W.O.F Scholars thing..."

"You mean the Will Of Fire Gifted Program?" I asked, then I shrugged. "That's basically the same thing as a summer camp. Having to go to a research academy and learn how to build rockets and missiles and machine guns all day."

He raised his eyebrows.

"How did you know that's what we did?"

"I was in that, too." I told him, then I smirked. "What? You thought you were the smartest person on Earth again?"

"Don't flatter yourself. The only way you could've gotten that invite is if they felt sorry for you."

"In your dreams." I retorted. "More like felt sorry for _you_!"

Our playful banter dissolved back into the somber mood pretty quickly.

"Anyway, he had to drive the family car over there with Itsuya and... I guess to just sum it all up, he was probably, distracted or something one day... He spaced a lot after everything. He barely heard what anyone was saying. It was like he was in his own little world. So it wasn't much of a surprise... To me at least, when they said they got into an accident."

He rubbed his bare chest.

"I didn't think they'd died or anything. I was only like ten then, so I didn't even really think people could die like that, you know? Especially not if they lived with you. I thought death was only something..."

Only something that happened to 'those people over there'. Not you...or me...

"We went to the hospital and found out that he ran a stoplight and got hit by a big gasoline truck going like fifty miles per hour." He told me. "Taiga was dead before the ambulance even got there. But there was hope for Itsuya. He wasn't sitting on the side the car hit so they thought he could make it."

But he probably didn't.

"It turned out that even though they could keep him alive. His brain wouldn't come back. That was another thing I couldn't really understand. How he could be breathing, heart beating and everything... But just never wake up? I was sure he'd wake up. I was positive. But... My Dad wasn't. He talked to the doctors and everyone agreed it was taking up more money to keep a sleeping kid alive than to just pull it."

So they probably pulled it...

"So, we had two funerals in a year." Strangely, again, he smiled. "Fuck, my life really went to shit after that happened."

I blinked, thinking of his home, and his parents.

"Your...parents aren't together anymore are they?" I asked.

He leaned back onto the stage and sprawled out, staring up at the ceiling.

"Nope." He said. "After the funeral, they couldn't stop arguing. My Dad didn't think it was a good idea for her to put them in camp. He wanted Taiga to join the family business. This banking company our family's been running since, like, the beginning of time. The Uchiha Senju bank."

I cocked my head. I was slightly aware of the company. I'd heard of it before. But it wasn't like colossal or anything yet.

"He thought working in the office would help him out better. My Mom did all of that behind his back. And it ended up with two people dead... Because she sucks at making any good decision ever."

"That's some pent up animosity."

"You don't know my mother." He replied

"I know Mother's in general." I said. "My Step-Mother's a big screw up... But I know deep inside, she wishes she could really be there for us. Maybe your Mother really, really wishes the same thing..."

"She's lousy, Hashi." He said, completely ignoring me. "That's it."

I messed with a loose fiber on my shorts, opting for saying nothing.

"Anyway, my Dad ended up skipping town. Moving to the really far outskirts of SouthSide Konoha. All I ever got from him until today were cards on my birthday and maybe a phone call on Christmas. Maybe. And my Mom, without anyone to tell her what to do, turned into a total bitch."

He closed his eyes.

"Tsubasa was the one who looked out for us. The only one who really cared after that. The only one we could really talk to. He played baseball with Izuna and brought me here and we used to box all the time. And then he had to go and get drafted... And now..."

I looked down at him, feeling lost for words. You know that moment where you can always feel someone's pain as sharply as you can feel your own heart beating in your chest? And there's that moment where you know, anything you say will be remembered forever and has the power to completely change the course of someone's life and your own. But anytime those moments happen, it's like all of humanity always draws a blank. But slowly, my mouth started to open.

"He was like the escape for you, wasn't he?"

Madara's eyes slowly opened and he looked at me.

"Before I said you looked like you were waiting for something."

Perhaps he was waiting for Tsubasa.

"But you can find a new escape."

If that's still what he wants.

He slowly pulled himself back up into a sitting position. He turned to me then, face literally inches from mine and gave me a serious look.

"Do you believe in coincidence?"

"Coincidence like... I was watching boxing on TV this morning and now I'm in an arena?" I asked, smiling.

"Can you be serious for one friggin' second?!"

"Alright, alright!" I exclaimed. "Uh..."

I thought about it.

"I guess I'm just one of those 'Everything happens for a reason' sort of people." I said shrugging.

"Even death?"

I looked down.

"Running into an old friend at the grocery store, or hitting the same homerun at the same stadium your Old Man did, stuff like that is the kind of thing that happens for a reason." I swallowed. "But death... Death, I don't know."

We were silent for a while. I looked up at him, watching as he played with his fingers.

"Why'd you ask that anyway?"

He shrugged.

"I just had a weird dream earlier..."

"You mean the one where you were whispering my name?" I asked him.

His face exploded into disagreement.

"Shut up!" he exclaimed. "I told you, it was about my brother!"

I cocked my head.

"What about him?"

He was silent for a while, probably calming down after my jabbing at him. He grabbed the ends of his shorts and then rubbed his hands on them.

"He said... 'I'll see you when you come home'" he told me in a voice barely above a whisper.

I didn't really believe in the supernatural either. But something like that can really change a guy's mind. How weird...

I found my hand reaching for his, I wasn't really planning anything, or at least if I was, I couldn't figure out what I was planning. I touched his hand, sliding over it gently and curling my fingers around it. His head was bent down and I wondered if he wanted to cry, though I doubted, a guy like him would ever cry in front of anyone.

"Hashirama..."

He stared at my hand on his as he spoke and then turned his eyes up to me.

"Do you believe in heaven?" He asked quietly.

I stared at him. His eyes were open, so very wide open like... Like a baby's or something. He looked so vulnerable, so...honest. I couldn't even imagine a jerk like him actually having such a soft, tender underbelly. His expression...it's almost artistic in a way. But not just this one... All of his expressions are. All of the really honest ones. My mind flashed back to the time that he smiled, truly smiled at me. And remembering that, and seeing his almost pleading expression in front of me sparked a reaction in me. I began feeling hot inside. Like a volcano just erupted or something.

"U-Uhm... Yeah, I... I do." I told him, then I nodded, reassuring myself. "Yes. Definitely."

His gaze dropped from mine and he smiled slightly. I could feel more reactions spinning off inside me like falling dominos. One of them, the one happening in my shorts, was brand new all in itself. Both exciting and frightening. And maybe it was because of all that, that I...

I leaned toward him and before my conscience could tell me otherwise, I softly brushed his hair out of the way and pressed my lips against his cheek. Dangerously close to his mouth, but not touching it. Along with the soft, smoothness of his skin there, I felt him stiffen under me. When I pulled back, his ears stood out to me, because the tops of them were a vibrant red.

He let go of my hand. We were silent for a while, incredibly awkwardly silent. About twenty five years later, when he moved out of shock, and my non-existent conscience prodded me, we jumped to the floor from the stage edge.

I was already kicking myself to the moon and back for what I did. I couldn't even think of a good reason why I did it. I didn't even know what provoked me. But even though I felt like it was a bad idea and serious encroachment of personal space, I wasn't regretting it. Actually, my fingers tapped against my shorts with longing because... I wanted to do it again.

But he was walking away from me. To the backdoor where he picked up his bag and pulled his shirt on, over his head. He paused with his hand on the exit doors.

"What are you waiting for, a red carpet?" He asked me, then he smirked. "Come on."

It wasn't until then that I realized I was holding my breath. I grinned back at him.

"I just waiting for your gross BO to leave the room." I retorted.

"Shut up!" he yelled.

He turned off the lights in the place as we walked out into the alley way. When he closed the door behind him, it firmly clicked into a lock. As we walked an idea popped into my head.

"Hey, since I got to see how you have fun today, maybe over the weekend, I can show you how I have fun."

"I'm not going to an Art Museum." He mumbled.

"I do other things than drawing." I told him.

He nodded.

"Alright, on one condition."

I stared at him dully.

"Another condition?! I still didn't get my side of the bargain from our last condition!"

"New condition anyway!" he overrode me.

I pretended to pout.

"You never do what I like..."

He sighed.

"Hey... Don't be all-"

"Psyche!" I yelled.

He glared at me.

"Stop playing around, I'm being serious!"

We stopped where my bike was out front of the place. I was actually very, very surprised it wasn't stolen and already being auctioned off somewhere in Denver.

"What is it?" I asked.

He slid his hands into his pockets. Suddenly, taking on that pleading expression again, though it wasn't as strong.

"Would you...come to his funeral with me?"

My face broke out into a grin.

"Dude, I was going to come whether you asked me to or not." I said, nudging him.

And that was a real truth. I'd only known the guy for three weeks. And he was an asshole, don't get me wrong. He was a HUGE asshole. But... Strangely... I wanted to be around him. Or more like, I didn't ever want to stop being around him. But I just couldn't figure out why... Why him? Why now?

"Don't tell me I have to ride on your handle bars."

"Unless you want walk." I said, sneering.

He sighed exaggeratedly.

"This blows..."

But...for the time being, I was content with being just as blissfully unaware as he was. I just wished it could stay that way.

**Madara**

**To The Train Tracks**

The bell was ringing so loud I felt like people all over town could hear it.

_This is different from before._

Izuna was sniffling on my left side. I couldn't bring myself to sling my arm around my shoulder like I normally did to calm him down. I just stared straight ahead.

_Before... Even though there were two deaths, there weren't nearly as many people here._

There were rows and rows of people, some of them distant relatives, like Kagami and his family, others family friends, like Hiruzen and his family, others people no one liked like Danzo... But the majority of people were people who'd heard through the grapevine some "neighborhood kid" went to 'Nam and didn't make it. These people made up the bulk of us. Eyes fitting back and forth between the coffin with the American Flag blanket thrown over it and their watches, waiting for their five seconds of being a good Samaritan to be over.

_None of these people even really knew who he was._

The large bell over the cemetery continued to ring. The tears collecting in Izuna's eyes spilled over, his trembling Soprano voice shook over to a sob. They began to move the coffin cover over, closing the lid. Inside, was a boy who was eighteen years old, but looked more like a fifteen year old and barely had any facial hair. His brown hair had been shaved into a buzz cut during the war so he looked slightly different but it was him. Still him. His tuxedo...was all white...with a black bow tie.

_They don't even know..._

He was a real happy-go-lucky guy. Anytime he got even slightly serious was when he was studying or doing homework. He wanted to grow up and really change things... Change them the right way. The legal way, by going into politics and becoming a Congressman or the President.

My Mother and Father stood next to each other but based on their expressions, they could've been standing light years apart. My mother's fingers were trembling. She tried to mask it by balling her fists or biting her nails but it was obvious. She clearly needed another 'fix'. My father's face was the epitome of calm and composed. Not a smile. Not a frown. Nothing.

_Even Mother and Father don't know..._

The girls really adored him, too. But he was a saint, he'd never date two at once or dump one for another in a bad way. He chose one girl that he really liked, despite all the girls throwing themselves at him, and stuck with her for two years. But before he left, he broke up with her...

_Maybe he knew... Knew he wouldn't make it..._

And then, with that thought, suddenly it all felt like it was getting to be too much. I felt the sorrow creeping up on me like an immense black fog I'd never be able to see through, or breathe through, or walk through... But when that happened, and I was seriously on the bridge, listening the Izuna's sobbing, and the screaming inside my own head... A hand slid into my mine.

I turned, looking at his tentative smile. Tentative...like he wasn't sure if I would accept his kindness. My hand tightened around his. Strangely, I found myself wanting to be as close as I possibly could to him. It felt like it was so cold where I was standing...but if I could just immerse myself in his arms, then suddenly, I could find the warmth I was desperately lacking.

The bells tolled again. The coffin began to lower. It was like the ground shook when it moved all the way to the bottom. Echoing the sudden emptiness of my life. Dad would leave again. Mom had never even returned anyway. And Izuna's pain was too much to carry along with my own.

_But I can't be like that. I can't just run away and leave like everyone else in my life does._

But the option was looking more and more attractive by the second...

Some things were said. My father said something. My Mother pretended to be too choked up crying to say anything, even though it was most likely because she didn't know enough about him. And because we were children, we were excused. Allowed to mesh into the background of everything. Dirt began to fall onto the coffin.

_It's over..._

"We can just pretend like he's still over there." Izuna whispered

He'd finally found a way to pull himself together. He looked up at me with red, tear drenched eyes.

"And that he'll be coming home any minute?"

"Stop hiding Izuna. Face it head on like a man. What happened has happened. It's done. Now we have to move on."

I found myself turning around, because Hashirama's hand was still in mine, he was pulled away with me. We walked, weaving around tombstones and large oak trees and paused at the gates of the cemetery. The people were dispersing, heading out in all directions. Hashirama kicked at the dirt next to us with his hands in his pockets.

I was actually surprised the guy had shown up in a shirt and tie. Though it still wasn't proper funeral wear. He was wearing khakis with a pale, blue thickly woven cotton short sleeved button down with a red and white polka dotted bow tie and red and white high topped Converse sneakers. He looked like something straight out of a private school catalogue rather than someone at a funeral.

_At least he's not wearing board shorts again..._

"Are you alright?" he asked me.

I nodded.

"That was pretty rough." He went on, still kicking at the dirt. "When they put the flag on... That... That really reminded me of my Old Man's funeral."

I looked at him, concentrating hard on the dirt and seeming to purposely avoid my eyes and tugged his hand.

"What the hell are you cryin' for?" I asked him.

He breathed deep, pulling himself together quicker than I could've imagined and showed me that ear to ear grin.

"You're way too gullible, Madara." He told me.

_But that wasn't trick..._

And it was odd to me then that, this boy I'd known for less than a month, was someone I could see through.

"Anyway, come on, let's go change so I can show you my favorite place."

"I thought you said it was what you liked to do for fun." I muttered as he tugged the gate open for me to walk through. "Not your favorite place or whatever."

"Same difference." He replied.

"Hey, Madara!"

We paused, I looked over Hashirama's shoulder to see Danzo and the rest walking up. They, unlike Hashirama, were actually wearing black and white funeral wear.

"Where are you going?" Kagami asked.

I stared at them, mind drawing a blank on how to respond.

"Did you forget about...'you know'?" Hiruzen improvised.

"I can't make it." I told them simply.

"What the hell do you mean you can't make it?" Danzo asked, crossing his arms. "You were the one that said Orange Sweater-"

"Hey! That's classified!" I interrupted.

I glanced at Hashirama quickly who was giving me a strange look.

"I know this asshole, okay? There will be another time to get him. Just...go on vacation or something." I told them.

I turned then, passing through the gate. Hashirama was still looking between them and me strangely, I slid my hand into his and pulled him after me.

"Come on."

After hearing me beckon him, he didn't turn back to them again and we walked on. As we turned onto the side walk next to the highway, over the small shrubs and bushes I could see them still standing there. Hiruzen looked kind of worried, as he whispered to Kagami I could distinctly see his lips move to form a word like "depression", Kagami just looked utterly confused, and Danzo, with his lips pursed together in a scowl and his arms crossed, looked angry.

_Knowing him, he'll probably try to lead the group now that I passed up... Go after the guy anyway to win himself some glory..._

I mulled over that and part of me wanted to go back and finished what I'd started. But another part, perhaps a stronger part, looked at Hashirama and the tingle of excitement on his face mixed with the bounce in his step and the prospect of being able to show me "how he has fun" and that all washed away.

We decided to go to my house since it was much closer than his, even though it was still a good fifteen minute walk away.

"Everything in Konoha is like countries away if you don't have a car." Hashirama complained on the way.

I shuffled my feet as I walked saying nothing. Suddenly, his face sparked up.

"Want to go joyriding?"

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Want to get killed?" I retorted.

But sooner or later, we stopped in front of my long, dark green lawn and walked up the driveway.

"Your house is so big. It makes me feel like I'm in...one of those Hollywood movies or something." He said, banging a stick he'd picked up against the porch fence.

"It's not even that big." I said offhandedly.

"Do you share a room with your little brother?" he asked me.

I blinked at him like he was crazy.

"Of course not." I replied.

_Sharing a room with Izuna would be like leaving the television on all day and night... People go crazy like that._

He grabbed his bow tie and straightened it out.

"Oh, of _course_ not. No Uchiha has ever shared a room with a sibling since the year 1431 and even that was just because our stocks dipped just slightly." He said, putting on a mock British accent.

I couldn't help but smile.

"As a matter of fact, we don't even know the meaning of sharing... Does that have something to do with our sons' trust funds?"

My smile turned into grin.

"Dear God, our son has suddenly staring fraternizing with a poor boy... Let's raise the bus fare so we don't have to see these people again."

My grin suddenly melted into an onslaught of full out laughter. I pushed the door open to my house and we both held our sides completely cracking up.

"Where is your room anyway?" he asked as I closed the front door behind us.

"Upstairs, first room on the left."

I heard his feet tapping against the hollow wooden floor before I could even finish speaking. I walked after him, taking my time, up the stairs and around the corner. I leaned against the doorframe of my room watching as he looked around.

"Nice." He said. "You even have colored carpet."

I shrugged. My room was pretty basic to me. I had dark blue carpet with white walls. My bed sheets were pretty plain, a plaid red, light blue and dark blue mix covering my full sized bed. I had a wooden desk/book shelf that took up most of the wall on one side of my room and a toy box with toys I hadn't touched in about four years on the other side. Hashirama lifted the lid of the toybox and dug around the dusty hug-me bears and box-car train sets.

"I was wondering how you got the money to buy such nice kicks." He said, as he poked around. "What did you say your Dad does again?"

I scoffed.

"I paid for that myself." I told him. "They don't pay for shit...anymore."

Hearing my dismal tone, he straightened up and looked at me.

"My Dad was a lawyer, or he went to school for law, then, when my great grandfather passed, he handed him the CEO chair of the company."

Hashirama nodded, beginning to shove my toybox to the side.

"Sounds about right, CEO/Lawyer..."

"But like I said, neither of them pay for shit."

"Not even lunch money?" he asked me, looking up momentarily.

I smirked.

"_Especially_ not lunch money."

He succeeded in pushing my toybox to the side only to have a light brown colored acoustic guitar that had been jammed back there for God knows how long clatter to the floor. His eyebrows rose with interest as he picked it up.

"This is yours?" he inquired.

I looked at the guitar for a long moment and frowned.

"No." I muttered.

_...Yes._

Suddenly, his hands dropped to the top of his khakis and he started undoing his belt.

"Do you have swim shorts?" he asked me.

I stared at him.

"Yeah, but they're... Why are you stripping?"

"One of my favorite things to do is going streaking." He replied.

Looking up at the expression on my face, he grinned.

"I have my shorts under these." He said, pulling of his khakis. "See."

Underneath he wore a pair of white board shorts with bright, neon pink, blue and yellow colored splotches all over it.

"You can't go one day without wearing those stupid things?!" I exclaimed.

"We can go back to my house if you don't have a pair." He said, ignoring me. "Do you?"

_I do have a pair... But they're not really mine..._

"Wait here." I told him.

I turned, leaving my bedroom and walking all the way across the tan carpeted hall to the last room directly opposite from mine. I paused for a second, looking around... I don't know what for. I could hear low, out of tune strumming coming from my room.

_Hashirama's messing with my guitar..._

I put my hand on the knob of the door and turned it. The room looked exactly like how he left it. Even though my mother couldn't be bothered to drive Izuna to practices, help anyone with homework or even cook friggin' dinner, she never missed a day cleaning his room. Never.

_Tsubasa's room..._

There was a memory I was trying to repress. A moment in time I didn't want to think of.

It was right after he'd gotten drafted and he decided he was actually going to go. Izuna was bouncing on his bed and I, along with Mom, was helping him get his stuff together.

"It kind of feels like summer camp." He said, offering me a smile.

Summer camp had been a taboo word in the house since my other brothers had died. So no one smiled.

"I'll tell you about all my adventures when I come back." He went on.

"That'd be cool!" Izuna exclaimed. "Tell us all about how you're gonna kick some commie ass!"

But I said nothing.

"...Didn't you think it'd be cool to be a soldier, Madara? What's up with you, anyway?"

I did think that. Until they drafted him, the last person that should have a gun pointed at them, except me, someone who could learn to handle it.

Somehow sensing my animosity, he smiled.

"Izuna, get out. I want to talk to Madara alone."

Izuna sighed exaggeratedly.

"That's a pile of shit, Tsubasa."

Tsubasa leaned over and used his belt to whip him on the butt, but not that hard.

"Didn't I tell you to stop cursing, now get out of here!"

Izuna grinned and ran off. Tsubasa sat next to me.

"There's a possibility I won't be coming back." He said.

And then I understood why he told Izuna to leave, because that was a realization he was too young to come to.

"So... Why don't I leave you in charge of something?" he asked.

I raised my head. He leaned under his bed and grabbed a brown bag.

"This is the bag I was going to take with me when I wanted to run away." He said. "It only has stuff that's really, really important to me in it. If... If... I don't come back..."

He put the bag in my hands.

"...Make sure this bag gets the escape that I couldn't get."

_The escape..._

I sat on his ultra-clean bed in his ultra-clean room. The bag was under the bed where I'd put it after he left. I didn't want to think I'd have to own up on that promise. So I pretended to forget about it. With a pair of his dark red swim shorts in one hand, I leaned over and pulled the bag out with the other and walked back to my bedroom. While I walked across the hall I could hear voices downstairs.

"I'm gonna go play baseball with the guys, Mom!" Izuna called, a door promptly shut behind him.

"Yeah... Yeah... Whatever." My mother's voice went.

I pushed the door back open to my bedroom to find Hashirama lying on my bed, holding a foam soccer ball over his head.

"It can get kind of cold where we're going. Do you have a jacket?"

I nodded and proceeded to pull my suit jacket off and hang it in the closet. Then my tie, which I hung on my tie rack.

"Does all of your clothes have a specific place?" he asked.

I sighed.

"Can you stop asking questions?" I retorted. "And turn around, I can't change if someone's watching me."

He groaned and rolled over, facing my wall.

I went for my pants, loosening my belt.

My mind reeled over what I wanted to do, continue forgetting about the bag, and what I promised to do, give it a proper send off. I kicked my pants away, hanging them up and turned to pick up my swim shorts. As I grabbed them, my eyes came into contact with Hashirama's who, at one point, had turned away from the wall.

"Do you think...if we were soldiers...I would die easily?" he asked me.

I pulled my shorts up over my waist and tied them.

_What the hell kind of question is that?_

I was sick of the somber mood. But lightening the mood wasn't ever in the realm of things I was good at.

"I don't know..." I muttered.

"That sounds like a yes."

I thought about it. Thought about him in a military uniform getting shot at by Ho Chi Min soldiers and getting taken in as a POW and gritted my teeth.

"No." I said, walking toward him. "I'd die before you did."

He sat up, giving me a curious look.

"How?"

_Because I'd snap every soldier's neck, torch every woman's body, and massacre any onslaught of children that dared to kill anyone else I care about._

"Just a hunch." I replied, then I leaned over him, grabbing his neck. "And didn't I tell you to keep turning around?"

He grinned pulling my hand away.

"Only someone who's trying to hide something can't change when someone else is watching!"

"I'm just really sensitive. I can't pee when someone's watching me either!"

He laughed.

"Dude, you just proved my point!"

I pinned him down on the bed and he squirmed, laughing at me.

"You're such a sucker." He said.

"I won't be a sucker if I pull you in a head-lock, you jerk!"

He stopped moving suddenly, looking toward the door. I looked, too. Beyond it, I could hear someone's footsteps, most likely my mother's going around. Hashirama grinned at me. It was that mischievous grin, that one that meant your life was about to get 100 times more stupid than it already was.

"Ahhh... Yeahhh... Keep it up."

My eyes widened so much, it was a wonder they didn't pop out of my head. Hashirama's facial expression slipped into that of complete glee as he continued moaning and sighing like some girl in a porno flick.

"Ohhh, this feels so good!" He yelled, purposely pushing my bedsprings.

"Shut the hell up!" I whispered at him.

"Ohhh my Godddd, ahhhh!" he went on.

"Quit it!" I said, pinning him down harder.

"Madara?" a voice sounded.

_Shit!_

"See what you did?" I said to him.

"Are you...alright?" she asked.

He responded with a long "ohhhhhh" moan and stuck his tongue out at me.

"...Is there...someone in there with you?" my mother asked.

I was actually slightly amused. It was the first time in my life SHE ever sounded as uncomfortable as I was.

"N-No... It was... The radio!" I improvised.

Hashirama snickered underneath me.

"...What the hell are you listening to?" she finally asked.

"U-Uh... Nothing! It's nothing! Go away!"

I saw the door knob turning, heard the click.

_This is bad... If she comes in here and sees me lying over this idiot like this... It's gonna look really bad._

"N-N-No! Stop! Don't open the door!" I yelled.

She paused for a moment.

"Whatever..." she mumbled, walking away. "You better clean up those bed sheets when you're finished, I'm not doing laundry today..."

Hashirama was struggling so hard, I thought he was going to die laughing.

"She totally thought you were jacking off!" He joked.

I put my hand on his forehead and pressed his head back.

"Why do you like messing with me so much?"

"Because it's fun." He replied, smiling.

I raised the hand on his forehead and brushed his hair back. His eyes shined out at me, playfully innocent. We gazed at each other for a moment. I wasn't really sure what I was thinking or why I was staring at him for so long. Why we were staring at each other. But I don't know how much time passed before I pulled myself off of him and walked over to my closet.

"We're going to lose daylight if we don't hurry." I said. "I assume that's important for whatever you're trying to do."

"Kind of important I guess."

I heard my bedsprings creak meaning he'd pulled himself up. With my jet black collared shirt still on, I unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled them up to my elbows and grabbed one of my windbreakers. It was black with a red and white fan symbol on it and read: "Uchiha Banking- Fanning the Flames of Your Credit since 1883" in the back. Then I reached into the closet and tossed him one of my acid washed/almost white, light blue jean jackets.

"Sweet!" he exclaimed. "I've always wanted to wear one of these!"

"Of course you have, since you have virtually no style whatsoever."

Then I dug through the top shelf of my closet and pulled down two pairs of jeans.

"Here. Put these on if it could get cold where we're going."

He made a face at the deep, dark blue jeans but between those and his khaki's he didn't hesitate to pull them on. I grabbed the other pair, my lighter blue jeans, slid them on over the swim shorts, and slid my feet into one of my newer pairs of kicks, a pair of black and white Adidas Campus.

"And we're off!" Hashirama exclaimed.

We basically had to sneak out of the house like ninja so my mother wouldn't see Hashirama and get any ideas.

"You're such a pain." I muttered to him.

"You love me." Hashirama replied, snickering.

It wasn't long, until following Hashirama, we walked Eastward across town, through the deep forested trees that the "shack" was in, where Danzo and the rest probably were planning their next heist, and past the ponds where kids and their father's fished on a Saturday afternoon. We stopped when we reached the train tracks on the edge of town. I rarely ever went out that far, but from what I remembered, it was rather close to where Hashirama lived...on the other side of the tracks.

"Let's go."

I stared out into the distance, the tracks went on for miles, seemingly.

"You mean...just walk up it?" I asked.

He nodded.

"A train should come soon." He said. "But until then..."

_We walk._

"This is lame." I muttered.

I adjusted my brother's leather black backpack straps on my shoulders and we stood there momentarily. Both of us staring ahead at the daunting nature of the path laid out in front of us.

_It's like we're standing on the edge of the universe. To go or not to go._

He reached over and grabbed my hand, pulling me.

"Trust me?"

It was strange. Normally, when people said "trust me" it was an order, a statement, a decision they basically already made for you. But he was asking for it...begging almost.

I continued walking after him, his Converse and my Adidas slapped across the metallic brown, rusty tracks. He was raising his eyebrows at me, in that hopeful way and I found myself wanting to give him more than just an answer. But I shook it off and opted for just squeezing his hand in return.

"I trust you." I told him.

UP Next: And so...they walk. But next time, living life on the edge is taken to whole new extremes. Madara _knew _Hashirama was a funny guy...but TRAIN JUMPING!? And also, things heat up in more ways than one as they finally get to Hashirama's 'secret place'.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hashirama**

**Beach Is Better**

"You've GOT to be screwing with me!"

Madara stuffed his hands further into his pockets and said nothing.

"Say it again, dude! Say it again!" I said, tugging his arm.

He sighed.

"I just said it, why-"

"Just say it again, with a straight face. I have to make sure my brain didn't just implode."

He sighed again, but this time it was much longer and more exaggerated.

"My favorite song's 'I'll be there' by the Jackson 5, stop bugging me, okay?" He muttered.

I almost collapsed on the railroad. I kid you not. I wouldn't even have moved if a million ton train with twenty nine boxcars was barreling down my way. He scowled at my doubled over laughter.

"Shut-up, okay?! My Mom used to make us do this stupid church band thing before she got all stupid..."

"Wait a second." I said, recalling the guitar I was messing with in his room. "You said that wasn't your guitar!"

He crossed his arms.

"Well, they didn't originally buy it for me..." he reasoned.

"That still doesn't explain how that's your favorite song!" I pointed out.

"We played it A LOT, okay?!" He retorted.

By that point I was literally rolling around on the train tracks.

"Just lay off me about it!"

"Well, you can't blame me!" I exclaimed. "Who would've thought Madara_ Uchiha_ would spend his time practicing R&B songs on his guitar for_ church_ practice?!"

I could've even get through that whole sentence without bursts of laughter. That's how hysterical it was.

"Is that why you're always M.I.A afterschool? Too busy crying your eyes out to Stevie Wonder?" I asked him.

"I never said I cried!" He shouted at me. "I _never _cry!"

"Oh shit! We got a bad-ass over here!"

Finally, at wits end, he pounced on me, pressing me down against the deep brown metallic tracks.

"Tell anybody and I _swear_ I'll kick your ass from here to friggin' Mother Russia." He said.

But even though I'd seen him practicing boxing and was pretty sure he really could kick my ass to the Soviets, hell, even past the Soviets and straight to the freaking moon, I wasn't worried. Somewhere deep inside me, I doubted he could hurt me...even if he wanted to. So I just laughed in his face as he held his fist over me.

"Okay, I swear I won't tell on one condition." I said.

He frowned at me, probably really wanting to yell 'no conditions' and just punch me but like I said... He wouldn't do that. Doesn't it suck when you know someone better than they know themselves?

"What?" he asked, letting go of my shirt.

"Sing to me." I told him.

The expression on his face was even more priceless than anything that had happened up to that point.

"Hell no."

I gave him my straightest poker face. The straightest one I could muster after all that laugher... And he slowly broke.

"Ugh! Fine!" he said. "But on my time. And where no one can see us."

"Deal." I said, grinning.

With my ear pressed against the cold metal down there, I could feel all vibrations. Even the vibrations coming from my own voice. The tracks seemed to be rumbling slightly. I pressed my ear closer to it and then grinned.

"Train's coming!" I declared. "Hurry, we have to get to the hills."

I jumped to my feet and pulled his arm, he dipped slightly grabbing up the backpack he was carrying with him which he'd dropped to threaten me.

"Hills?! For what?"

"So we can hop on!" I told him.

His eyes widened in a comical kind of way and I grinned at him.

"Scared?" I asked.

"N-No! What? It's just...that's...crazy! Do you want to _kill_ us?"

"I thought you said you trusted me!"

I glanced behind us, seeing the train gaining on us. With the large, baby blue sky nestling over us with its sun just beginning to take its fall down to a sunset, it didn't need lights. It was clearly visible in its big, black shaped horror crunching toward us like a hoard of angry wolves. We ran up the hill side which only put us around floor level with the base of the train.

"How the hell is this even going to work!?" Madara shouted over the blaring horns of the train, driver probably wondering if we had a death wish.

"My little bro and I used to do this all the time to go see my Dad where he used to work!" I shouted back to him. "The train isn't really going that fast yet since it just got out of the station less than a half a mile ago! If we keep running, it's not hard to grab on!"

"Your Father _knew_ you were doing this!? What the hell kind of crack-pot family-"

But before he could finish his insult, the train began to come up next to us. I saw the first empty box car coming up and decided it was best to jump as quick as possible, besides, the train was about to go over a bridge and if we didn't, we'd lose our chance...or end up at the bottom of the ocean.

"Come on!" I shouted.

I outstretched my hand, reaching for the railing on the side of the open box car, which freight trains like these normally left open, and then jumped. It was a good four feet away but I was able to grab on and hold. The wind whipped my hair back fiercely and I slid down the railing, reaching to swing myself around and inside the car. I watched as Madara pulled one of the straps of his backpack across his chest like a messenger bag and continued running progressively edging toward the train.

"Hurry!" I shouted, looking at the impending cliff.

He followed my gaze and then, seeming to curse loudly, jumped. He didn't take the time to measure out the distance and jump a bit farther up than the railing and so he barely caught on, grabbing onto the base of it, just above the wheels. He quickly swung in and skid toward the center of the boxcar.

I opened my mouth about to joke about how hard he was making it even though it was so easy when something caught my eye. Having pulled one of the straps of the backpack across his chest, it left the other one dangling behind him. As he pulled himself in, I could see it... One of the constantly moving pegs on the bottom of the train came up...and almost in a blink of an eye caught it. He was scooped off of his feet with the force of the train slammed down onto the floor of the train. I was running, before I could even process what was happening, I knew I had to get to him. My mind didn't even know what was happening but I knew it would launch him out if I wasn't fast enough.

I dove, grabbing his ankles and holding on as he was whipped across the floor and toward the open boxcar door about to be flung out just like I had predicted. But with the way the bag was across his chest, as the thing kept moving, it flipped up and over his arms, wrapping around his neck. His hands were busy trying to pry it off but with the train moving at breakneck speeds at that point, there was no way it was possible.

I lifted my head, processing the information and that if I didn't act soon it was going to kill him. Either it would strangle him to death or snap his neck... Either way... Either way... I pulled myself across his body, and grabbed the leather straps just as the train moved over the bridge. The upper part of Madara's body was already out of the train being pulled down toward the wheels where the strap was caught.

Everything was happening quickly. I saw the water beneath us. The millions and millions of miles. The panic on his face. His fingers scratching at his neck. The strap tightening. For a second, or maybe even a millisecond I considered finding something to cut it with, then remembering that it was a train... And train had sharp pieces jutting out of them all on their own, I grabbed the edge of the boxcar door, which, like I expected had a sharp jagged piece. I pulled on the door, trying to hold Madara's body in place and felt a yell bursting from my lips as I dragged it and slammed it across toward the other side. The door slammed closed, tatters of the strap fell and Madara weakly pulled the rest from around his neck and lay on his back, just being content enough to breathe.

I grabbed him.

"I'm sorry. Shit. I'm so sorry. I'm_ so_ sorry." I heard myself saying.

I knelt in front of him pulling him into my chest and hugged him.

"It really wasn't supposed to happen like that. God..."

It's like that life moment where you think someone's going to die, hell, you _know_ they're going to die and it's almost like you flash their life in front of your eyes _for_ them. I hugged him tighter and found myself whispering apologies over and over again.

"I'm really sorry."

He pulled himself back momentarily and rubbed his neck sorely. There were deep red marks across them, like someone tried to strangle him. He continued breathing heavily for a second and then, he gazed at me seemingly shocked as a tear fell and hit his cheek. I didn't know where the tear came from. But when I rubbed my face with the back of my hand, it was drenched in tears.

"What the hell are you cryin' for?" he managed to mutter.

I couldn't even respond. I just felt so sorry and grateful for his life at the same time. I couldn't even really understand why I felt so strongly. I mean, yeah, if he died I'd probably feel sort of terrible but with the way I was acting... It wasn't like I'd be tried for murder.

I found myself reaching for him and hugging him again. He didn't pull away this time. Instead he leaned against me until his breathing settled and then sighed.

"You're such a wuss." He told me.

"I thought you were going to die."

And as I said that, I realized I didn't want him to die. I really didn't.

I let him go and he reached for me, wiping one of my tears away.

"If I ever died, it certainly wouldn't be in a stupid freak accident like this..."

I wiped the rest of my face dry.

"...Really..." I said for no reason in particular.

"Yeah. I'll probably die of old age or something." He reassured me.

"...Didn't you say you'd die first in war?" I asked him, raising my head.

"Well, if 'Nam's still going on by the time I'm eighteen then, maybe..." he said, then he shrugged. "But that would only happen if _you_ went to war, too."

He cracked his neck and the boxcar darkened, showing we'd gone into a tunnel. I thought about what he said for a moment.

"...Me? What do you mean?" I asked.

It was silent for a moment. In all the darkness, I wondered if something happened and I reached for him. My hand touched his thigh. He was still there. Slowly, his hand lifted and covered mine.

"Nothing. Just that... I'd probably end up doing something stupid." he said in a quiet voice.

Something stupid? And even though he didn't explain it. I caught his train of emotion and I knew what he meant. Something stupid like... He'd risk his life for me. I found myself frowning because he was such an airhead. With everything that had just happened, I'd rather be the one sacrificing my life for _him_...

Then, suddenly, his hand was gone, the light was back and he got to his feet, walking over to his backpack, which thankfully for him, wasn't ripped to shreds.

I wanted to think about what he said more but he was already picking up the bag, seeming to weigh it in his hands and that caught my curiosity more.

"Hey, that reminds me." I said, pointing. "Where did you get that from?"

"Are you dense? I've been carrying it this whole time."

"Yeah but why? What's inside?" I asked.

He grabbed the boxcar door and pulled it open, a cool breeze whipped inside blowing our hair back and nestling our clothes.

"It's my brother's." he told me. "It's kind of funny that me bringing it would end up almost killing me... Kind of like... My brother wants me to come home."

A shiver went down my spine. I couldn't see what his expression looked like since he was facing outwards.

"Madara..."

He turned around and rolled his eyes at me.

"I'm kidding." He told me. "The truth is, my brother said if anything happened to him...and he didn't come back. He wanted me to give his stuff a proper send off."

I cocked my head.

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"Beats me. I don't even know what's in it. All I know is it's supposed to be the stuff he would've taken with him if he escaped to Canada."

I walked up to him and we both looked at the bag in his hand.

"How much you wanna bet it's a bunch of playboys?"

He scoffed.

"You're such an idiot!" he said, shoving me.

But then, we both looked at the bag suspiciously. And then looked at each other. And then back at the bag.

"Open it on the count of three." I said, grabbing the other side of it. "One... Two..."

Suddenly, the breaks to the train screeched. We were knocked off of our balances and grabbed the handles to the boxcar doors to not fall. I poked my head out of the window and grinned.

"Looks like we're here!" I cheered.

Madara leaned over my shoulder.

"Where?"

"KECB." I said, phonetically pronouncing it like: "Key-Cee-Bee"

Or better known as Konoha East Coast Beach, right at the very edge of Eastside Konoha. Not having a car sucked because the freight trains took a really roundabout way to get there but I was just so stoked that we were there.

"This is gonna be so gnarly." I said.

The train began to trudge to a stop.

"As soon as this thing stops, we're going to have to book it." I told him. "The guys who usually run this thing are real assholes. Always warning us about the 'danger' and whatnot..."

"I wonder why..." Madara replied.

I could smell the scent of sandy, salty beach-ness in the air. I tapped my feet anxiously. It had been so long since I'd been there I was literally itching to go. It was taking all of my willpower not to just launch myself out of the damn boxcar, roll down the hill and sprint over there. I could see it, just over the trees, the white, sparking sand and the bright blue water beyond with the crisp, cool blue sky kissing the waves of the horizon.

"Why are you so damn excited?"

"Trust me! You're going to have _SO_ much fun!" I told him.

The train finally stopped and I grabbed his hand and propelled us both out of the car, not even giving him a slither of a warning. Luckily, he was agile enough to land on his feet. I tugged his hand hard and we ran down the hill, crossing the open, lightly littered forest and sprinting across the parking lot where people were pulling their beach chairs, balls, umbrellas, sand toys, toddlers, books, or anything else that was extra baggage and unnecessary for REAL beach fun out of the car and walking toward the sand.

"Wait. You're passing it." Madara said, looking out at the waves and all the people swimming in the water. "Aren't we going to the beach?"

But that was the public beach area. Where I was taking Madara, what only a couple of people knew about, was the really private one... The one where the biggest tallest waves hit the shore and all the best sea creatures show themselves. The one where the REAL fun happens.

"Hell no! That's for commoners!" I joked.

We continued running until we got to the end of the shore where a really, really tall rocky cliff blocked us from the rest of the beach.

"What...now...?" Madara asked, breathless at having to run.

"Secret passage." I told him, wiggling my fingers mysteriously. "If I remember correctly, it should be over here somewhere..."

"Oh great... Now, we're guessing." He complained.

We walked a couple yards up the bank until I found it, a narrow but visible if you were close enough, gap in the cliff that was just wide enough for a human of average size to slip through. Especially ones as short as we were.

I slid my hand into his and led him.

"Here it is! This way!" I yelled.

My voice echoed, bouncing off the sides of the mountain as we inched our way through. He glanced backwards at all the funky beach people and turned to me curiously.

"No one's really found this place before?"

"Well, they probably have." I said, shrugging. "But they wouldn't be able to hang out here anyway."

He blinked at me.

"Why?"

"Because you can only get in..._if_ you can get in."

At that point, he could've been wearing the national dunce cap on his head and STILL wouldn't have looked more clueless.

We emerged from the rock coming up onto another strip of beach, it wasn't as long as the first one because it was closed off abruptly by another rocky cliff but it was cleaner and somehow more serene. It was like one of those places in the world that you could literally feel God putting his paint brush on. Almost like, going there, gave you a sense of wholeness no other place could. I turned to Madara, whose eyes were wide watching the waves crash against the bank.

"Pretty, huh?" I said.

He shrugged.

"I guess..." But the way his eyes wouldn't leave the water, I knew he felt the same thing I did.

"There's someone I want you to meet." I told him.

Up the rest of the sandy bank, there were gates. The gates were actually apart of the Land of the Waves Aquarium in East Konoha. They always left them unlocked so that, whenever they wanted to, they could let the sea animals out into the real ocean and let them hang out for a bit and come back in. Since before I could even remember, I'd known about it.

"My Dad used to take my little brother and me here." I told Madara. "This was like my entire childhood."

"A beach?" he asked dully. "If _that_ was your childhood, I should call child services."

We walked through the gates, open like I expected them to be and then approached the outdoor bar and grill behind the Aquarium that people usually had lunch at. Because the Aquarium usually closed at like 6pm, I knew it was closed. But the workers stayed late into the night.

"He has everything." I told Madara. "So, we have to meet him before we can play."

"...Everything? All of what?" He asked. "And who?"

Who? Well, basically my second Dad, of course!

**Madara**

**Hawaiian Surf**

We approached the "Hawaiian Themed" tent with the grass skirts and wooden posts painted onto the backboard and Hashirama knocked on the bar table. Someone moved in the back stock room where they were probably busy putting away the blenders and cooking supplies after work was over and began walking out.

He was a big guy with brown skin, a thick mustache and long, almost waist length brown hair.

"Oh Queen Mother of God in Heaven, if that isn't who I think it is!" the voice exclaimed.

I looked over at Hashirama who was keeping a straight poker face.

"Who do you think it is?"

He paused momentarily, seeming to think it over.

"Huh... Maybe I don't know who it is."

He turned around, grabbing the broom and beginning to sweep.

"Uncle! It's ME!" Hashirama shouted coming from around the corner.

He grabbed him, lifting him off of his feet and giving him a hug.

With a man that huge, hugs are like bear attacks...

But Hashirama laughed as he set him down and ruffled his hair.

"Of course I knew it was you, bruh!" he said, then he looked him up and down. "Wow... If it isn't my little busy body, Hashirama..."

He glanced over at me.

"Is that what Tobirama ended up looking like after all these years?"

I frowned visibly.

"If he suddenly stopped being albino, then maybe!" Hashirama replied.

Both of them burst into side splitting laughter and I was very, very quickly starting to see the family resemblance.

"Wow, it must've been ages." He smiled. "How are you holding up?"

"Groovy!" Hashirama replied.

"Gunshot! Gunshot! So are you here to pop some waves or what, bruh?" he asked him.

"Yeah! I want to show this shagadelic dude how it's done."

_Shagadelic? Christ, and I was _just_ beginning to think he wasn't out to get me..._

"Well, we got real primo waves on this bank, bruh." He said, grinning at me. "I think you'll have some fun, even if it's your first time."

_First time? Now I'm _certain_ he's out to get me... What the hell does he want to do anyway? We could've gone to the community pool for swimming..._

"Actually, now that I think about it, you bros actually showed up on a pretty righteous day!" Hashirama's Uncle declared.

"What's going down?" Hashirama asked.

"They're about to let your buddies out into the water." He told him.

I didn't think Hashirama could get any more excited than he did at that point.

"You psychin' me?" Hashirama exclaimed.

"No way, bruh! They actually might've let them out already. You should go back to the bank and look around. You know they'll come near the shore if they smell people." His Uncle said, then he cocked his head. "I'll go in and go check for you and while I'm in there, I can get your boards out, too."

But before he was even finished speaking, Hashirama was already pulling the jacket I gave him off and reaching for his jeans.

"What are we doing now?" I asked him.

"Something even BETTER than I thought!" he exclaimed. "If they let the guys out, this is going to be killer!"

"Who are the guys?"

But he was reaching for me, pulling my jacket off my shoulders.

"Hurry up, Madara. It's gonna be mondo cool. I promise."

I sighed, letting him pull my jacket off and then slipping my jeans off after it. We both took our time unbuttoning our shirts and put them all on the bar table.

Hashirama put his hand over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"I think I see them! I'll race you!"

I set my backpack carefully atop all of my clothes and sprinted after him. Our feet slapped against the grass and into the sand as we neared the bank and it wasn't until Hashirama started wadding out into the water that I saw what he was heading toward.

"...Dolphins?"

"Yeah!" he shouted.

When the water came up to our waist, the bank nosedived, forcing us to tread water. Strangely, I expected the water to be cold. My experiences with large bodies were normally cold but it was surprisingly mild.

"They see us." Hashirama said.

Oddly, I found myself suddenly feeling sort of apprehensive. I never really liked animals. Not even house pets.

The first dolphin swam right up to Hashirama, allowing him to pet it and give it a large hug.

"His name's Itama." He told me.

_...The wheel chair kid?_

"You named it after your baby brother?"

He nodded.

"Itama was never allowed to come with us when we'd visit Uncle here. So, we named him after him."

_Of course he wasn't allowed... Not even just the fact that a kid without the use of his legs can't swim, but just because of how we even got there. The train jump alone would kill any sane person... It almost killed _me_._

Another dolphin swam up and Hashirama hugged him, too. When he let him go, he swam over to me and with an extremely large mouth and wide eyes, seemed like it was expecting something of me. So, I reached over and stroked his nose.

"His name's Kawarama." He said.

_Kawarama? That's unique. _

I opened my mouth to ask why but Hashirama leaned up on Dolphin Itama and grabbed his fin.

"Grab his, too, like this." He told me.

I reached up and put my arms around it.

"Okay! Hold on tight!" he hollered.

"Wait, what's going to-"

But before I could even get the words out, a flourish of whitish blue flooded my vision. My fingers slipped, I almost let go out of surprise. The dolphin had sprinted off and started propelling itself out toward the water at breakneck speeds. I used my upper body strength to pull myself further up it's back and raised my head.

Hashirama was giggling like a friggin' broken record. I looked up and was somehow, startled by the perfection of what I saw. We were speeding toward the horizon, which the sun was progressively making it's way toward. The sky was just beginning to cast a bit of a pinkish hue. The cool, water, flowing up on either side of me splashed flecks of the ocean onto my face and my hair blew back in the wind.

I felt a smile spreading onto my face.

_This actually... Is pretty fun._

"Hold your breath, man!"

And with that split second's notice, the dolphins dove under the surface, I just managed to get a little bit of air right before it. The animals shook fast, speeding like a bullet when they were actually underneath the surface and I opened my eyes in the blue-green world they knew as home and directed my eyes toward Hashirama. He grinned at me and I found I was smiling back.

The dolphins surfaced again and when we came up, I could see the Aquarium people waving to them to return to the little tunnel that led inside the property. They came back near the coast, dropping us off before they headed back.

"Bye guys!" Hashirama called.

Drenched in water and dripping like dogs, we walked back up the beach bank and over to where our stuff was. Lying against the barstools next to it, were two large surf boards.

"Yes!"

"Wait... Wait..." I said. "Surfing!? That's what we came here for?"

"Ain't it groovy, bruh?" His Uncle said, popping his head up from where he was in the storage closet again.

_I'm seriously beginning to see the half Hawaiian in him..._

"This is my board." He said, showing me.

It was white with bright lime green, light blue and yellow stripes across it.

"Yellow is my favorite color." He told me, as he pushed the other board toward me. "What's yours?"

The other board was red with deep purple and white checkered marks over it.

I shrugged.

"I like a lot of colors. Sometimes I like red and blue. Sometimes I like purple." I told him as we walked back.

"Red and blue? Like fire and ice... Fits you perfectly."

I rolled my eyes.

"Purple is that kind of color that's really harsh and deep seeming, but then when you look closer you realize it's just a pansy." He said, thoughtfully. "Hmm... I wonder who-"

"Shut-up." I interrupted him.

He smirked at me.

"Come on, the waves get super gnarly around this time!"

I chased after him as he splashed in, running up to where the water came up to about his waist.

"Okay, get on." He positioned his board and then straddled it with his legs hanging out over the sides.

I copied his position and shook my hair out of my face.

"So, now what?"

"Wait for a wave."

_That shouldn't be hard, seeing as how the tide is already pretty heavy._

"But first I have to teach you how to do it." He said.

I looked out toward the horizon as he spoke, watching the incoming waves.

"It's all really, really simple. First you paddle out with your arms, wait until it's coming up right behind you, pop up, and then ride it." He told me. "Four simple steps."

"You say 'ride it' like that doesn't have five steps all of its own." I pointed out.

He shrugged.

"Not really." He said. "Just keep your balance and if you feel like you're going to wipeout, jump off on the sides... Not in front of your board. It could wrap back around and mess you up."

"What does 'pop up' mean?" I asked him.

He got into a flat position on the board, lying straight down, and then 'popped' up by thrusting his legs down and jumping into a standing position.

"When you paddle out, you have to be flat. But when you ride it, you have to be up like this. So, you have to pop up." Then he pointed at me. "Try it out."

I slowly got down into a lying position and then, like he did, pushed myself up... But my hands slipped on the board and then the next thing I knew the waves were crashing over me. When I came up for air, Hashirama was basically drowning, he was laughing so hard.

"I wish I had a freaking video recorder!" he exclaimed. "This has to be the first time someone's ever wiped out without even being on a wave!"

I shook my hair out and vowed silently that I would learn how to do it even if it killed me. Which it almost did. We went out, riding our boards across a couple tiny waves, which nearly drowned me, and paddling out to one five foot wave, that I actually road for a moment, until the wave crashed and the movement made my board flip up and almost behead me.

"Well... For a beginner, you're... Uh... Well, yeah, you suck pretty bad." He said grinning.

But for another hour or two, we kept going at it and with every single time it seemed to get easier and easier. Keeping my balance was the only hard part and once I'd gotten that down, I glided on all the small waves like they were nothing. Hashirama jumped onto me, sinking us both down into the water as I road up to him.

"I knew you could do it!" he shouted.

"You're going to drown me!" I exclaimed.

He grinned, pushing my board toward me and letting me go.

"So am I right? Are you having fun?" he asked.

Putting my hands on the board in front of me and looking at the whimsical expression on his face I couldn't help but nod.

_But it's not a lie. This is actually... A LOT of fun._

He laughed.

"That's good. With all the times you wiped-out..." he said, then he shrugged. "I guess some people just can't be prodigies like the rest of us."

"Will you shut the hell up?!" I yelled at him as he laughed.

Something caught my eye and I splashed him.

"Why don't you catch that big one, if you're such a prodigy then?" I challenged him.

I had been watching that wave progressively get larger and larger and smirked as he looked at it with wide eyes. As he got down into position and began paddling out, I realized his eyes weren't wide out of fear, they were wide out of excitement. He paddled quickly and I realized then that he'd always seemed to have a certain level of body strength about him. It wasn't enough to win against anyone in a fight but it was noteworthy... For someone who spends all their time drawing pictures.

He 'popped up' coming in at the wave which had risen extremely high at that point, perhaps a full seven feet above sea level, and surfed it. The wave came up and spilled over, making a sort of tube shape that he road through, grazing it like he was resting on the wings of a bird. He pulled out and away from it, just managing to escape before it folded in on itself and he skidded out toward me with both of his hands in the 'hang loose' sign and pumping up into the air.

"In your face!" he shouted. "How much do I win for that bet?!"

"Zero." I replied.

He came up next to me, grinning ear to ear.

"Wanna know something?"

I raised my eyebrows, showing interest.

"When I was younger and my Dad used to have his friends around, I used to watch them play cards all the time. So, like, by the time I was around three years old, I could shuffle a deck like six different ways."

"So you're an artist and a card expert now?" I questioned.

"More like a gambling expert. I got really good at it when I actually started playing cards for real. But Hisa got all 'concerned' and made me stop."

He stuck his tongue out.

"Mothers." We both sighed collectively.

It was silent for a moment as we drifted out toward the shore on our boards.

"...I was thinking earlier about our families."

We came up to the bank and pulled our boards after us. While we'd been surfing his Uncle came to tell he would leave the gate open for us to put our boards back but he was going home.

"What about them?"

"Your family is just as messed up by the war as mine." He pointed out.

I dropped my board and flopped down onto the bank right next to the waves where the water came up all the way to my thighs. He sat down cross-leggedly next to me.

"And... The reason your Mom's such a head is because of what happened to your brothers', right?" he asked me.

"She's not a head... She just forgot how to live without bottles."

I sighed.

"But basically... She's a weak person... _All _women are weak."

Hashirama smiled.

"Just because the only woman in_ your_ life sucks..."

"What about your step-mother?" I asked him. "You really think she's a strong person after your Dad's gone?"

I paused momentarily. I didn't know much about his family life but he never really praised his Step-Mother, so I took a guess.

"...No." he finally said.

And I struck gold.

He dug his fingertips into the sand.

"Remember when you asked me what I would do to get rid of evil?" he asked me.

I nodded.

"Your response was basically something like 'kill the evil', right?" he went on. "Or...more like do whatever you have to do to reach whatever goal you have to reach."

"By any means necessary." I told him.

"And you really believe that?"

_Recently... I've begun to..._

"Yes." I told him.

_Doubt it._

"There aren't any inherently good people in the world, Locke." I said. "It's all imaginary. Fiction for little kiddies before bedtime. Everyone has good and evil in them... And usually evil wins out."

He watched me speak. I continued speaking. I needed to... Not just to cover up my doubt, but to confirm my own beliefs to myself.

"So, before the evil wins out and hurts someone. You crush it."

"What if there's a reason for the way they're acting?"

"No one ever does evil things for a reason." I replied.

"Humans are different. All of them... So, you can't just type cast-"

"Listen to me, Hashirama. Believing in humanity is the dumbest decision you can ever make. It's best to just stay away from people and avoid them. They'll just come back to bite you in the ass one day. "

"I'll keep believing."

I raised my eyes to him. The rosy, pink sunset sky was reflecting off of his eyes and causing a dandelion yellow hue to wash over us.

"I'll keep believing...if just to prove you wrong."

"Why?" I asked. "What does it matter to you what I think?"

I could feel the intense honesty there...before he even opened his mouth, I knew the truth would be spilling out.

"Because if you don't believe in humanity... Then you're going to leave me."

_Leave him?_

I fingered the tie on my swim shorts.

_Something like that... _

"You really want me around that much?"

"Do you want _me_ around?" he countered.

I sighed.

_Because he told the truth, now I'm obligated..._

"You're the only person in this whole stupid town that I can talk to Hashirama. I mean, _really_ talk to... What do _you _think?"

_Of course I want you... Of course..._

A smile spread onto his face.

"Then let's do this after school all the time." He proposed. "You could be an ace surfer by the end of this month!"

I crushed the sand in my fist. A wave washed up, covering our feet and then retreating.

"Hashirama... You _know_ I have something to do..."

"Maybe I could come with you there then."

"No."

That was completely out of the question. The things I was capable of... I liked him seeing me as a harmless fly even though I hated for anyone else to see me that way.

"Well, can't you just tell me where you go?"

I sighed.

"I'm just busy."

"You really like those other kids, huh?" He asked me.

I turned to look at him. He was playing with his ankle leash, attaching it and removing it.

"That's who you're so _busy_ with."

_This... This guy... Could he actually be jealous?_

"You tell me I'm the only one you like talking to but you avoid me all the time."

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose." I retorted.

"Well, if it wasn't on purpose, then-"

"I'd way much rather hang out with _you_, okay?!" I interjected.

He looked up at me.

"Those guys are just... What we do... It's nothing, it's just..."

I sighed.

"Some stupid idea I came up with right after Tsubasa was drafted." I told him, bowing my head. "And now I'm just in too deep..."

He gazed at me.

"I can be your escape... You don't have to be stuck where you are."

_My escape?_

I thought back to the backpack Tsubasa had left with me. And then to the drawing Hashriama did for me.

_Escape._

My eyes drifted out over the ocean again. I was met with the pleasant smell of life.

_My ticket to freedom._

"Okay." I said to him.

"Okay?" he repeated.

"I won't go back." Then I rolled my eyes. "Just to stop you from dying of loneliness because you have no damn friends..."

"What?! I have friends!"

"Yeah? Name one!" I challenged him.

I swear, a brighter smile couldn't have lit up onto his face. He attacked me, wrapping his arms around me and almost making me lose my balance.

"_You_, you jackass!" he exclaimed.

As he hugged me, I was suddenly reminded of a feeling that had been nipping at me. I was successfully suppressing it but... In the boxcar when he was hugging me, I felt kind of...strange. Like giddy. Like I was on a high no drug could ever sway me into. Like... Like I wanted his arms around me forever.

I shook my head as he pulled back from his hug.

_Why the hell am I thinking of something so weird like that?_

"Do you want to go now?" I asked him.

He gazed at me, the smile was still plastered on his face.

"Not really."

But no matter how hard I tried to shake it out it cropped back up in my head. This time with the kiss Hashirama had given me on the cheek. I'd basically side-stepped it at the time, washed it out of my own thoughts but suddenly, I couldn't shake the thought of it.

"Then what do you want?" I asked him.

The water washed up and over our legs again. The sun, slightly diagonal and to the right from my head shined into Hashirama's eyes in a way that made them almost sparkle. The smell of salty ocean water and fresh sand engulfed my nose. Because of all these things, I could've been distracted, or maybe I just completely ignored it, or maybe... Maybe I purposely didn't stop it. But he leaned toward me, left hand coming up, grazing my right cheek softly and touching my hair.

_He wants..._

He kissed me.

_This._

And his were lips soft and supple, like I remembered them being, as they pressed, making a timid contact with mine and I couldn't even begin to suppress the explosion of emotion that resulted. He pulled back quickly, bowing his head slightly, like he felt guilty but then...

His eyes slowly rose to mine and I took in their chocolate brown innocence. I wasn't really sure what expression I was making or if I was making an expression at all. All I knew was that a very unique sensation was ripping through me, catalyzed by what he'd done. I could feel my face and ears getting really hot as the sensation concentrated in my pants causing an occurrence that hadn't happened to me in a long time. A pretty bad stiffy. I'd gotten it plenty of times before. But normally those just happened for no reason at all. Like when I was hugging my Grandmother for instance. When it happened like that, it was easy to ignore. But this one... One that I was almost completely certain was happening for a specific reason... One that almost had me shaking with the urge to do something I'd never even _thought_ about before... That...was completely new to me...

His hand touched my neck tenderly, easing around the marks from the straps that were still visible.

"Madara..." He whispered.

That alone set off a new chain of reactions that I didn't even try to hold back.

_Why... Why did you have to go and say my name like that?_

He neared me again, lips pressing just slightly and unable to stop myself any longer, I pushed back, feeding into the suction that his mouth delivered. He licked his lips, wetting mine in the process, and kissed me again but more firmly. His bare chest pressing up against mine and he straddled me. Along with the scent of his skin, which consistently smelled like something similar to oak trees, there was also the beach, and the fresh breezes caressing our bare skin. And one of his hands on my thigh, moving ever so closely to the center of my swim shorts. And the whooshing waves, coming up and tickling our legs and even, sometimes, coming up to my waist. And the warm sun beating down on our sun-kissed skin. And his kiss. His kiss... I... I'd honestly never felt anything so... So...

He pulled back slowly. His hand stayed on my cheek, coming up to pull the lock of hair consistently covering my eyes back. He gave me one of his classic playful grins.

"Did you like that?"

I stared at him... Completely drawing a blank at how to answer and then, suddenly, I was answering before I could even process _how _I would answer.

"You're a queer." I stated.

It was a declaration. There was no 'question' about it.

His smile faltered slightly, but didn't completely diminish. He poked me in the forehead.

"No." He addressed me almost teasingly. "I'm Hashirama... _Remember_?"

He got to his feet, looking toward the eatery just inside the gates.

"Let's go take our boards back." He suggested.

I shook my head abruptly.

"I'll...catch up." I told him.

He stretched, not seeming to ponder it at all and picked up my board along with his. When he was far enough up the bank that he couldn't hear me, I ducked my head, expelling a breath of air I didn't even realize I was holding in. And of course, it was still there, positioned between my legs.

_No, no, no... This can't be happening... This can't be happening to me..._

But it was. And it didn't look like it was going to quit any time soon.

_Go away... Come on, just go away... Please..._

But more importantly than my steadily, stationed stiffy, were the thoughts I was trying to barricade from revealing themselves...unsuccessfully.

_How could I have gotten so excited because of...a boy?_

-About Twenty Minutes Later-

I still had a nut but the difference was Hashirama brought me my clothes and jeans do a great job of hiding even the most ferocious of mishaps...

"Are we going to go?" Hashirama asked.

I slid my arms through my black shirt and neglected buttoning it back up, just like he'd done, with his bow-tie hanging out of his back pocket.

"One last thing." I told him.

I pulled the black leather backpack I'd been carrying all that that time in front of me.

"Are we finally going to get to see what's inside?" He asked me.

_Do I...even _want_ to know?_

But Hashirama didn't give me the answer. He loosened the tie on the mouth of it and stretched it wide open. Then he hesitated, looking up at me, seemingly for permission to go on.

_At least he has some sense of personal space..._

I reluctantly dipped my hand in and felt around. There wasn't much inside. I expected the bulk of it to be a couple t-shirts or shorts, some kind of light weight clothing, but my fingers didn't touch clothing at all. Just an assortment of...things. The first one was a newspaper clipping.

"New York Times." I read. "Vietnam War Begins."

_Same year I was born._

There were a couple of other things attached, more documentation of the war. News clippings showing the death count going farther and farther up. Headlines about protests and peace rallies all over the country. Armed soldiers supposed to be protecting citizens, shooting kids at universities instead. All kinds of shit. Crude shit. Stuff that makes your heart forget to beat. On the end of it he had a note tacked: "When Will it End?" in big dripping red letters.

_His guess is as good as mine..._

Hashirama dug in and pulled out a framed photo. A photograph I hadn't seen in years. The photo was of two seven or eight year old looking boys, one of them carrying a pistol, pointing it at the camera with a wide grin, and the other simply making a stupid face at the camera. On the back of the frame there was a small folded up piece of paper that said: "Goodbye"

"_Dude, I'm gonna kick so much Ho Chi Min ass out there!" Taiga hollered_

"_Yeah, you better, you've been friggin' practicing for it since we were in diapers!" Tsubasa told him._

The third thing was a rather large bright red painted toy fire truck.

"_I'm going to be a fireman when I grow up. And put out HUGE fires!" Itsuya declared. _

"_Put out fires? Weren't you the one that stuck the match in the sofa and almost burned it down the whole house down!?" Tsubasa reminded him. _

"_It was an accident!"_

The fourth thing was a miniature baseball super glued to an old mitt.

"_Heads up, shortie!" Tsubasa called. _

"_Ow! Hey! I wasn't ready!" Izuna said, rubbing the spot on his head the ball dropped._

And then... The final thing. I grasped a pair of sunglasses with large angular shaped lenses and a broad rim going across the top. They were tinted a tan color and a note was taped lightly to it, almost torn off from all the jostling of the day.

The note read: "Best birthday present I've ever gotten."

"_So you really like it?" I had asked him all the way back then on his eighteenth birthday._

"_Hell yeah, kiddo! It's the best birthday present ever! Honestly, you know what the problem is with birthdays? People buy you all this extra crap, you know? And you never get the stuff you actually need! Like sunshades!"_

"_Sun glasses, dude." I corrected him. _

"_You want a knuckle sandwich, kiddo?" he joked. "But no, seriously. It's great. Even better that it's from you."_

The note was signed: "-Thank You, Kiddo"

"I thought you said you never cry." Hashirama reminded me.

"I'm not crying!" I yelled at him.

Which was true, I wasn't crying. My head was bowed, my lips had a slight tremor to them, pulling them down into a frown and I clutched the sunglasses pretty hard but I wasn't crying.

_But I've never been closer to wanting to cry until now..._

Hashirama placed everything back in the backpack and folded it over. We both walked toward the shore, where the sun had, for the most part, already began its journey to the other side of the world. And with the stars as our only witnesses, tied the backpack to a couple pieces of nearby wood, made sure it floated, and put it on the waves.

"Those sunglasses..." Hashirama said, pointing.

I looked at them still clutched in my hand and realized I didn't want to send them off. I wanted to keep them in a safe place, somewhere I would find them all the time. I leaned close to Hashirama, sliding them onto the bridge of his nose.

"...Will you take care of them for me?"

It was already pretty dark, so he lifted the shades onto his hair and watched me for a moment before he nodded hard.

"Don't worry, Madara. I'll keep it forever. I swear." He promised me, all smiles.

I blinked at him.

_Déjà vu... Why do I feel like I've heard that before? But I can't remember where... Weird... _

We pushed it out to sea, watching as it floated, bounced, carried away.

"Come on, Madara." Hashirama said, holding his hand out to me. "Let's go home."

I pulled my eyes away from the bag, finally finding its escape with my brother's soul, and caught the gaze of the boy standing over me.

_Why does it feel so right to be with you?_

But I saved that question for another time, another place, another chapter in the story book called life, and I decided, just this one time, I'd do what I _felt_, not what I thought.

"Okay." I said, grasping his hand.

Up Next: Didn't that just warm your heart? Oh, it didn't? Oh... Well, maybe next chapter will! Hashirama begins to verbally question his sexuality while Madara starts questioning his goals in life. The boys are both faced with a choice. Him or me? Stay tuned to find out who they pick!


	5. Chapter 5

**Hashirama**

**Queers Are Murderers **

"You've been gone a long time."

I closed the door, raising my eyebrows to Hisa who sat at the kitchen table eating peanut butter crackers over a newspaper.

"I was out with a friend."

She smiled.

"I know. Tobirama told me. I also heard through the grapevine. A neighborhood boy just passed, right?"

I nodded.

"His older brother."

"You're such a good friend. Being there for him and expecting nothing in return." She said smile softening. "That's a really good personality trait, you know."

I smiled back at her.

"That's me. The best friend a guy could ever ask for." I said, nearing her. "So, where is everyone?"

"In bed." She responded, frankly. "You guys _do_ have a bedtime, you know."

"It's Saturday." I reminded her.

"All the more reason for you to go to sleep early!" she declared. "You know, God cries when people sleep in church."

I burst into a grin and she matched mine and we started laughing.

"I visited Uncle today."

She raised her eyebrows, only slightly interested.

"Still as eccentric as usual?"

"Eccentric?! I think he's pretty cool!" I told her.

"You would!" she said, reaching over to pinch my cheek playfully as I sat down at the table next to her.

It was then, as I neared her, that I caught it. It was slight. Like how you think you're smelling something but you're not sure if it's persistent or just a passing thing? I searched for it, discreetly sniffing around her. No. It was a persistent smell. What Itama was talking about... I suddenly realized why he didn't recognize it...

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, then she pointed at me. "I should be staring at _you_, you know, you're wearing pants for the first time in five years!"

I laughed.

"I wear pants to church." I reminded her.

Even though she was that 'whatever you want to do is your own business' kind of mother, she was pretty stern when it came to church. I was normally allowed to wear bright colors anyway, but I had to keep my board shorts on under my khakis, like how I went to the funeral.

"Yeah, because I threaten you by saying I'll ground you from drawing!"

We laughed momentarily.

"So what does he look like nowadays?" she asked, grabbing another cracker. "That surfer craze."

I grabbed a cracker, too.

"...Like Dad." I told her, before biting into it.

She nodded silently. Hisa never visited my father's brother after my father died. I never visited him either. Or Tobirama. Or any of us. The main reason was that...he was my father's twin brother. Identical twin brother. And it bothered all of us too much to speak about to see him as he was, looking like he did. The only reason I probably even gained the balls to go that time was because I'd been aching to surf for years and because I wanted to be with _him._

"Did you have fun?"

I nodded.

Because of Madara. It was all because of him. And as I started thinking about it, I remembered the train ride home. It didn't take as long to get home as it did to get there but there were a few changes. Firstly, we went to a station and snuck onto a train while it wasn't moving, to make sure Madara didn't somehow end up underneath the freaking train, and then, because on that specific one there were a bunch of train workers walking around, we ended up having to climb up to the top and hide up there.

"This is dangerous as hell!" Madara exclaimed.

I laughed.

"Aw, is baby punk ass Madara scared?"

He moved to shove me but seeing as how the sides of the train were curved and pushing me would likely result in a fatal accident, he stopped himself just in time. It was mostly dark up there as the train barreled through at around 50 or 60 miles per hour.

"What if we pass through a tunnel?"

"Most train tunnels are made with a good amount of space between the top of the tunnel and the train, just in case." I told him. "We'd just have to lie down, if that."

"You mean you've done this before?!"

"Dude, haven't you ever heard of subway riding?!" I asked him.

He groaned and flopped backwards, looking up at the sky. I crawled over to him and leaned into his line of sight.

"You trust me?" I asked him.

"What do you _think_?"

I grinned. It was then... While I was looking down at him lying there, that I remembered how we kissed on the beach. And what he said to me afterwards.

"_You're a queer."_

I'd honestly never thought about it, even though I was very consciously aware of my feelings about him. But I never put it into black and white terms like that. Never questioned it. I just liked him. I just liked him. I just... There... Was no beginning or ending to it. It was just that.

He raised his arms and grabbed my shoulders.

"You just like watching me, don't you?"

But that was true, too. I was watching him before. At the baseball games. But I just really liked his face. His expressions.

And then I was reminded of the expression he made at the beach. That expression that caused me to do what I did... At first, he looked really honest and open, like before, at the stadium. Like he was telling the complete truth about dropping whatever he was doing with those other kids just to hang out with me. I was grateful for that... So I kissed him. That would've been it. I _know _that would've been it but then, when I saw the next expression he made... His face and ears were all instantly bright red and the way he looked at me... He just looked so damn shy and innocent... I really, really couldn't help myself that time... I really couldn't.

"I wish I knew what was going on inside your head." I told him as I leaned over him. "That's all."

"You want to know what I'm thinking right now?" he asked.

"What?"

"I'm thinking you're blocking my view of the stars." He replied.

I sighed, beginning to back off him but with his hands still on my shoulder's he pulled me downwards...and hugged me. I flattened myself down onto his body, surprised at such a random occurrence of affection.

"So...you won't let me up?"

"Just shut up."

We lay there silently. My cheek pressed against his collarbone. I adored the bare skin warming my face there. He slid his arms up my back and his fingertips meshed in with my hair at the base of my neck. It was like a lullaby. His entire existence was lolling me into a zone of peace and harmony I'd never even entered before. I felt like I was dissolving into a dream I never wanted to wake up from. Eternally warm and serene in his arms.

"Hashirama?"

I'd almost fallen asleep. I blinked.

"Huh?" I asked.

"I meant to ask this earlier but I forgot." He said. "Your Step-Mother... Earlier you said she isn't really a strong person. Why did you say that?"

I just wanted to lose myself in him but I opened my mouth and began telling him what I thought I knew.

"Hashirama!"

"What?" I said, blinking.

"Just zoned out on me there." Hisa said, looking concerned.

I smiled back.

"Sorry." I said, then I yawned. "I guess I'm just tired."

I watched as she went back to munching on her crackers. A pair of clear, very tall high heels was hanging on the back of the chair she was sitting at. Her blouse was stretched open, almost forcibly looking, and there was a stain on her short, dark gray skirt.

I glanced at the clock. It was: 10:32 pm.

"Get off work early tonight?"

She nodded.

"Mhmm. I decided to take an earlier shift." She pulled the newspaper down and gave me a longing look. "I wanted to surprise you guys but then you weren't home."

My eyes flicked over her. You know when you have a guess about something or someone and you start playing detective in your head? Piecing 'evidence' together in your head like a puzzle and listening to every single thing three times as hard. I'd basically been doing that since the moment she'd gotten that job.

She never came home wearing the same thing she left in. She worked in the pediatric section of the hospital. Who in the actual fuck wears clear heels to clean bedpans? And her makeup was always smudged or messy, along with her hair. And the scent... What Itama smelled... I was vaguely familiar with the scent of a heavy mary jane smoker. It was a distinct smell but along with the stains on her skirt, cocaine or crack or both, it wasn't a far fetch.

But all that didn't put the nail in the coffin. It was that... She'd never told us where she worked her second job. Never.

"Hisa... Where do you work?" I asked her.

She flipped the page of the newspaper, taking an unusually long time to respond.

"Didn't I tell you guys before?" she asked me, without looking up. "I work downtown. In the city."

"Where in the city?" I specified.

"You know..." she said, turning another page. "Uh... In the beauty parlor."

"The beauty parlor closes at 11pm?" I asked.

"We have to do clean-up stuff." She finally looked over the paper and winked at me. "You know women."

Oh, yeah, I knew women. And I also knew, just like every other human being on the face of the planet, when my parental figure was lying to me.

My mind retraced its way back to my memory of coming home with Madara.

"...Are you sure about all that?" he asked me when I told him everything I'd observed about her.

"She's scatter brained." I said. "So, yeah. She wouldn't remember that she's coming home looking completely different than how she left."

"Or maybe she thinks you wouldn't notice."

I watched the trees whipping past the train.

"Maybe. Itama sure doesn't."

"But if all that's true... Then... That probably means she..."

"Yeah." I muttered.

"But you said the hospital had the number." Madara proposed. "Maybe it's something else."

"Tobirama's been doing a bit of snooping, too. He traced that number back to an Adult Entertainment Theater on the edge of the city."

"Adult Enter... Wait, I know that place!"

I lifted my head, giving him a strange look. He nodded.

"My brothers used to try to sneak in there all the time." He said. "It was like a senior dare sort of thing. Anyway, it has an X-rated movie theater inside and...a strip club."

"That basically settles it." I muttered. "She's out all night...fucking some assholes."

Madara was silent momentarily.

"Is...that why you asked me if I was serious about saying 'by any means necessary'?" He finally asked me.

I found I couldn't respond. But that was the reason. It was the _only _reason.

"I'm not sure if it applies... To something like that."

"Face it, Madara." I said, finding a way to smile up at him. "Your Mother's actually better than mine."

He rolled his eyes.

"Don't get carried away. At least your Mother _has_ a job."

Somehow, we both laughed. It was funny. It was_ really_ funny in a 'this world is so fucked up' kind of way. Imagine finding out your step mother, the same woman that takes care of sickly hospital children and reads mystery books with your brothers spends her nights getting tossed. Actually... The only way I could stomach it was to laugh. Laughter distracts. It numbs.

"I'm sorry." Madara said.

It was misplaced. Random. Especially coming from him.

"No biggie." I told him.

I shifted over him, moving my head onto the left part of his chest and, suddenly, I was struck with a really relaxing sound. His heartbeat. While I moved on him, it quickened slightly. I wasn't sure what that meant but his reaction brought me to a crucial level of excitement. Especially when he started stroking my hair and the rumble of the train beneath us caused certain body parts to rub up against others.

As I sat in the kitchen watching Hisa blatantly lie to me, I was brought back to that first strain of thinking. I was wondering... Could it be possible? To actually..._like_ a guy?

"Hisa, can I ask you a question?"

She pulled the newspaper back, revealing a really, really funny face that she was making.

"Okay, spill it."

I smiled, unable to resist her silliness. Parents like her that could stoop down to a kiddie level on moment's notice were pretty awesome. ...Despite what they had to do for a living.

"...What do you think about queers?"

I caught her completely off guard. Her joking attitude changed to starling confusion.

"What, you mean like... Like homosexuals?" she asked as if she didn't hear me.

"No, duh, Hisa!"

She leaned back in her chair thoughtfully.

"Well... Nothing really... I mean..." She fumbled. "There are people out there who just...do weird things."

"Weird things?"

She paused momentarily, as if collecting the perfect way to respond in her head.

"See, here's the truth, Hashi, there's honestly no such thing as queers. You know like how people choose to murder people?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, well, there's people who choose to do intimate things with their own sex the same way." She said shrugging. "Just like how people aren't born murderers, people aren't born queers."

"So...being a queer is like being a murderer?" I clarified.

She nodded wholeheartedly.

"God punishes humans the same for both." She told me. "It's in the bible."

That was true. It_ was_ in the bible... Plenty of times.

"Queers are just weak hearted people who get tainted with the devil." She said, opening her newspaper back up. "What they need to do is go back to church... Find God."

So everything I felt was just... Nothing? It was just the devil tainting me with evil?

"I think I get it." I said, getting up from the table. "I'm going to go bed."

"Wait a second, Hashi."

I turned just as I was about to walk into the hallway.

"That new friend you made. Madara, right? He isn't doing anything weird, is he?" she asked me.

The expression on her face was suspicious. And there was also something else behind it. Something more...ruthless.

"No." I said quickly. "I just heard the word somewhere. That's all."

She popped another cracker into her mouth.

"Good."

I sighed as I pushed the door open to the room I shared with my two younger brothers. The room was so crowded with the bunk bed on the left hand side of the room and the single bed, my bed, on the right, that there was hardly any place to walk. I pulled the jacket I was wearing off, Madara's jacket, and zipped the jeans down, Madara's jeans, and ran my hand through my hair.

As I turned toward my bed, my eyes lowered to the bright red binder I had used as a drawing workshop. I pulled off my shirt and with just my board shorts on, slid into bed. The first couple of pages were from the summer and had mostly pictures of trees. Then there was the picture I drew of Itama's hands and Tobirama's eyes and the baseball. And then after that... After that...

Every single picture I'd drawn since that day was of Madara. Sometimes I just couldn't help myself when I was bored, sitting next to him in class, since I sat next to him in every class because our names were so close together. I didn't mean to watch him. I honestly didn't, but... I'd ended up drawing a different one almost every day.

Even then, my hand was reaching toward my pencil and with the light snoring of my younger brothers' as the only sounds around me and the memory of Madara's face, right after I'd kissed him the first time, fresh in my mind, I started drawing again with only the dim lamp next to my bedside for illumination. And while I did, I couldn't help but wonder if drawing boys was a sin, too.

**Madara**

**Staying For Him**

_A minor... D Flat... B minor... Right? Or was it A minor, B flat, D minor? No..._

I messed with the acoustic guitar that had been gathering dust in the corner of my room for almost a full year. It had been an extremely long time since I practiced, but it was like riding a bike. It didn't take me long to remember the cords to all the songs I used to play.

_Or maybe it was actually F, A, G..._

But the one song I was learning by ear, just by hearing it on the radio, was pretty difficult to replicate. Even more so since the friggin' phone wouldn't stop friggin' ringing...

I continued strumming, coming pretty close to matching what I remembered the radio tune to be when someone started making a bunch of completely unnecessary noise.

"Madara!" A voice exclaimed, startling me and causing me to almost drop my friggin' guitar.

I sighed, trying to find my place again from where my fingers slipped.

"Madara!"

"WHAT!?"

"Your stupid friends are calling this house night and day looking for you, now you better come down here answer this goddamn phone!"

I hopped out of bed, dropping the guitar and tugging the door open.

"Is it Hashirama?" I asked as I got to the balcony.

My Mother, wearing a classic pair of sloppy workout pants and one of my elder brothers' old t-shirts stared at me.

"No, it's Kagami and the rest of your little gang."

I turned, completely losing interest.

"Tell them I'm busy."

"Just because you got a new friend doesn't mean you're supposed to forget your old ones, Madara."

"Mother, _please_. Do you really think you have the authority to lecture me about life?"

We glared at each other. Tension high...as usual.

"You better be glad I'm too tired to run all the way up those fucking steps and smack the taste out of your mouth." She muttered.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever... Why don't you go tell that to 'Jack Daniels'?" I replied.

"I don't know who the fuck you think you're talking to. Because I know it isn't me."

"Are you seeing things now, too? Who else is down there, Mother?!" I shouted at her before turning and walking into my room.

"Fine! Walk away from me! One day you're going to need your Mother, Madara!" She hollered.

"It's going to be one cold day in hell!" I screamed back.

There wasn't a real reason why we were arguing. I always said that kind of stuff to her, ever since she started acting like she didn't know the meaning of 'parenthood' but strangely, ever since Tsubasa died, she'd started talking offense to it or something. The things I normally said that she wouldn't even bat an eyelash at had her jumping across the dinner table to grab my shirt collar, like the night before, or threatening to friggin' _ground _me for Christ's sake.

_It's _way_ too late to start giving a damn, Mother..._

I glanced over at my desk where the picture Hashirama had given me was tacked to the wall above it. I found, the more I looked at it, the more and more I liked it.

_It's like I keep finding new things to look at... Of course, Hashirama would just say that makes me a narcissist. _

My eyes traveled down from the picture to my desk where, atop some of my textbooks and homework assignments, there was a black business card. I picked it up, turning it over in my fingers to the side with the words:

"We Guard Your Savings Like Ninja"

Printed on it in bright red, shiny ink.

"Dad..." I found myself whispering.

It was right after I came home from the beach with Hashirama that, right before I was about to go to sleep, I talked to him. I was leaning over my desk, pinning up the picture Hashirama drew of me when someone knocked on the door.

"Could you stop harassing me, Mother, I told you I don't remember the name of the radio station!" I shouted.

The door creaked open slowly, in a delicate way. And that drew my attention. No one else in that house had a precautious bone in their body except him. I turned, fingers slipping, and dropping the pin and paper which fluttered to the floor. He walked over slowly and picked it up.

"Nice work." He said, glancing at it. "You do this yourself?"

I shook my head.

"A friend drew it for me."

"Ahhh." He said, before setting it down on my desk and regarding me again. "So what do _you_ have to show for yourself?"

_Nothing I could ever explain to you._

"I...decided to start boxing again." I told him.

"Really now?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"And what kind of position do you think that will put you in for the future?" He asked.

I said nothing. He walked around me, looking at the parts that made up my room, a sixth grade science fair gold medal here, a third grade music award there, I was sure it was all new to him seeing as how I couldn't recall one time in my life that he'd entered my room.

"I'll be frank with you, Madara." He finally said, turning to me hands settled in his brown slacks. "...You're wasting your life here."

He leaned up against my desk.

"If you stay here, your Mother's going to kill you, you know." He said. "She'll strangle the life out of you with all of her depression and misery. This house...it isn't any place for a true man. A man of the world... That's why _I_ left."

He motioned to me.

"How old are you now? Ten? Eleven?" He asked. "That's a man in my eyes."

I resisted sighing.

"I'm almost sixteen, Father."

"Well, then even more so!"

I raised my eyebrows.

"...Then...why didn't you take me or Tsubasa or Izuna with you?" I asked him.

He stared at me.

"You can blame your Mother for that." He said. "I tried, Madara... But she stood in my way, and because of that, your eldest brother's death resulted."

_Wait... That means..._

"You were planning to leave Mother even then?"

He seemed to be resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Your Mother and I haven't had much more than a civil union." He confessed. "It's you boys I've always cared about. Not her."

He walked toward me.

"Now... You understand what I mean, don't you?" He asked. "I can send you to a boys' boarding school near where I live. There, you'll learn the proper skills and book smarts and etiquette to one day take my place instead of milling around playing hockey."

"It's boxing." I said.

He gave me a look that had me wondering why I even thought it'd be smart to correct him.

"If your Mother had allowed me to send Taiga, I'm sure this family's fate would have resulted much differently, don't you think?" he asked.

I nodded slowly.

"I guess...yeah." I replied.

He put a hand on my shoulder.

"So you'll accompany me, then?" He asked.

But then, even though I was soaking in everything he said the entire time. I hesitated.

"What about Izuna and Mother?" I asked. "...She'll neglect him."

"Well, you just said yourself that Izuna's ten now. That's old enough to take care of himself."

_I never said that. Christ, Father, nobody is ten years old anymore. _

I looked up to see his eyes narrowing at me, examining me closely. It wasn't until I glanced at the mirror, noticing the horrifically deep scars across my neck from almost being strangled that I hunched my shoulders up in an attempt to hide it.

"I mean, you're both men, aren't you?" he went on. "If she tries any kind of threat, either of you boys are more than strong enough to handle her."

"Handle her?" I repeated, then I touched my neck again. "No, you've got it wrong. She didn't-"

"It's about time you've understood, Madara." He went on. "Women are secondary creatures to men. Though, however dull they may be, a little physical persuasion is never lost on them."

_Physical persuasion? Like..._

It wasn't a family secret that my father put his hands on my mother more times than anyone could count. But that happened the most when I was young and either of my elder brothers could distract me or lie to me about what was happening. The last time he had done something like that, it was right after Taiga died and Itsuya was hospitalized. It was a huge fight. I remembered Tsubasa being too frightened to stand up to my Dad and ending up just letting him do what he wanted to her...which wasn't pretty. While she was being treated for brain trauma and a broken arm, that was when he went and signed the papers for Itsuya to be taken off life support...

"She'll do nothing but make all of your potential rot, Madara." My Father reminded me. "_Especially_, if you're letting her do whatever she wants with you."

If there was one thing I knew for certain it was that my family was always terribly dysfunctional. But it was a very well kept secret. It wasn't until very recently, with my father absent, two of my brothers dead, and my mother spending the majority of her time at the liquor store, that we became noticeably dysfunctional. I'd always wished, during that time, that I could escape somehow.

"I don't have all day, Madara."

But at that moment...strangely, I didn't want that anymore. My eyes lowered to the drawing of me he had laid on the desk and suddenly, I realized why I didn't want it.

_Because...for the first time in my life, I have someone who actually makes some goddamn sense in this shitty, fucked up world. And I... I..._

"Father..."

_I don't want to leave him._

"...I'm sorry, but... I'll have to decline." I decided.

He stared at me for a long moment and then slid his hands into his pockets.

"I don't know what kind of spell your Mother has on you boys'. Tsubasa said the same thing... And then he went and got himself killed." He said sourly. "Well, it's no matter."

He took a small black card out of his shirt pocket.

"I know you'll change your mind." He said. "Unlike the other boys, you're different. I can see it in your eyes. You're ambitious, Madara. You're goal-driven. You have purpose. ...Just like me."

I took the card that he was handing me, like I was one of his business constituents, and watched him leave my room. He'd hardly stayed with us for two days and he was already leaving.

Strangely, I was reminded of my Mother's words as she hit me while she was driving. She was saying something about me "worshipping" my father even though he wasn't even "man" enough to watch his own kids and ran away like a lousy piece of crap.

_I must be fucking crazy but... I think my Mother's right. People who try to 'escape' their duties are...cowards. And I'm _not_ like him. I'm not going to run away from anything._

I grabbed both ends of the business card as I stood in my room remembering that conversation and, a week later afterwards, ripped it in half and tossed it into my desk drawer.

_So much for "knowing I'll change my mind", huh, Dad? _

But with the reoccurrence of those unsettling memories and the telephone downstairs beginning to ring again, I turned to my closet where I slipped on a pair of gray sweatpants and matched it with a black t-shirt that said "Be The Revolution" in red letters and threw on a pair of shoes I hadn't worn in almost a year, an army patterned pair of Vans Era's, the shoe brand Hashirama normally wore.

A dark green "Konoha" baseball cap that Izuna had recently given me hung on the hook next to my door. I fitted it on over my hair, backwards, and left my room, beginning to descend the stairs and make my way toward the door discreetly.

_I can't believe I'm sneaking around like I care. _

But the final step creaked, like it normally did, and the couch groaned signaling someone moving.

"I hope that isn't Madara Uchiha trying to leave this house."

I sighed, cursing under my breath.

"Again, Mother, who else is in here?" I asked, stepping off of the last step and coming into plain sight.

She was lying on the couch, as usual, but unlike usual she sat up gave me a hard look.

"Where are you going?"

I stared her back down.

"Hashirama's house."

She cocked her head.

"Again? What is it with that kid?"

My brain took a tentative step back, trying to seal away any kind of emotion on my face.

"Nothing. My boxing match is today and he just..." I stammered, avoiding her eyes. "...He's going to come with me, okay?"

"Well, if you _must_ go see that boy every single day, then go ahead." she replied, sighing. "But if you see Izuna out there, tell him to pick up-"

I balled my fists.

"What? Cigs and liquor?" I interrupted her.

She paused.

"Stop trying to ruin his life, too!" I retorted.

She sighed, letting go of the edge and lying back down into the couch.

"...Tell him...to pick up milk on his way back." She finished.

I froze.

_...Milk?_

My hand fingered the doorknob.

_I can't believe this woman is actually making me feel..._

"Fine." I said, before opening it and slamming it behind me.

_Guilty._

I went straight to the garage, grabbing the motorcycle in there that everyone continuously kept telling me I was going to go to jail for riding illegally and hopped on.

_It's so weird... To be a law-breaking law preacher._

It had been around a week since I'd gone with Hashirama to surf. Ever since then, we'd spent every single day together. Whether we skipped out after school, or in some cases during school, or met up at some local places during study hall or lunch period didn't really matter. It was honestly like we just couldn't get enough of each other. And I wasn't surprised to see him leaning up against my locker in the morning or sitting on my bike waiting for me in the afternoon. It was...what it was.

_Which was something neither of us could label._

But that didn't mean we got all touchy-feely anymore. Actually, he seemed to try his hardest not end up in an intimate situation with me at all. I couldn't help but wonder why but...

_It's not like I want him to keep being a weirdo around me. _

After about fifteen minutes of riding out, I hopped off the bike at his house and adjusted my sunglasses on my nose which were appropriately shielding my eyes from the twelve o'clock blazing sunlight that streaked across the city. I walked up the walk and to the front door but before I could knock, it swung open and Hashirama looked down at me.

He stared at me.

Genuine surprise spread across his face as he stood there with a bag of garbage in one hand.

I stared back at him.

"Uhm... " He began.

_Well, this looks awkward. _

"Yeahhh..." I mumbled.

His classic grin spread over his face.

"Couldn't stop dreaming about me again?"

"I never dreamed about you in the first place!"

He laughed.

"Then what are you doing on my doorstep, spying through my window?"

I was about ready to snap his neck.

"I was trying to learn a song on the guitar for _you_... Remember?"

His expression brightened as he let me in.

"Did you figure it out?" he asked me.

"I would've if my Mother didn't start bullshitting me." I muttered, looking around his front room and through to his hallway. "Who's home?"

"No one." He said, shrugging. "They all went to the grocery."

I rolled my eyes.

"So, why didn't you come get _me_?" I asked him.

"Control-freak, much?" He asked, sneering. "I didn't know you wanted to be my _girlfriend_."

I could feel my face flushing.

"You said you wanted to come to my match, you bastard!"

He grinned, poking me in the ribs as he walked by and left the house to walk to the garbage can out front. It wasn't long until I heard his soft footsteps padding along on the concrete outside and the screen door slamming behind him.

"So what've you been doing anyway?" I asked, looking around for his classic red binder.

"Practicing fighting." he said simply as he flopped onto the couch.

I stopped in my tracks and turned, giving him a look.

"What?"

"I thought, since you learned how to surf... Well, not really but kind of. It'd be cool if I learned boxing, like you." He explained.

I snickered.

"Wouldn't learning an instrument be a better choice for you?"

"That would take too long." He pointed out, then he gave me a disturbed look. "Wait, are you trying to say I can't learn how to fight?"

"Yes." I told him. "You're better off catching waves, man."

"Whatever, dude. I could learn to box circles around you in seconds."

But before I could say no like I was planning to, he already rolled off of the couch and began shoving the coffee table out of the way.

"Come on, Mada." He said, turning to me.

He begged me with those large, soulful brown eyes of his and I was answering before I could think not to.

"Fine." I muttered.

"YES!" he exclaimed, fist pumping.

He was wearing an actual pair of shorts that day, which were white with red and blue plaid stripes going through them. He grabbed the plain white t-shirt he was wearing and pulled it over his head.

"Why is it that you're always stripping around me?" I asked him.

As his shirt dropped to the floor, he gave me a strange look.

"I just have better control of my body with less clothes on." He said

_That's a lie. He probably thinks exposing a lot of his skin is going to distract me. _

"Does it bother you?" he asked, beginning to smirk.

"Fat chance... I'm still going to kick your ass." I told him, then I nodded seriously. "Okay, what's your stance?"

He looked at me blankly and then put his fists up, but they were way too low and wouldn't protect anything if someone was really out to get him. I moved toward him, thrusting my fist out in a fluid movement that had him stumbling backwards, out of position quickly, trying to avoid my punch.

"Does that look like a smart stance now?" I asked.

"So what gives?" he asked.

I walked over to him and grabbed his right hand.

"You're right handed, so this fist is farther away from your body, because this is what you'll mostly be punching with. And your left fist is closer to your body, because it's a blocker."

I moved behind him, moving his fists like I said. As I did, he leaned backward, pressing his back into my chest.

"But I don't get it." He asked, looking at me over his shoulder. "You don't stand like this."

He lowered his fists.

"You only have one fist up...and it's not blocking anything."

I rolled my eyes.

"That's because I'm _experienced_."

"Oh, here we go... All hail Madara time."

I shoved his head forward and he grinned.

"Alright, alright." He said, putting his hands back up. "So now what?"

I grabbed his waist with my right hand as I leaned into him and kicked his right leg out.

"You'll always move with your right leg first." I said.

"Oh... That's why you always look like you're skipping."

"It's called being 'light on your toes'." I corrected him sourly.

"It's called _frolicking_." He joked.

I smacked him in the back of the head again which caused him to promptly burst into a chain of laughter.

"One more strike, Hashirama, and I won't teach you a damn thing." I muttered.

"Okay, I promise this time!" He said between bursts of laughter.

When he was in a proper stance, I slid my hand over his right fist and pulled it so that he was extending his arm.

"This is the stance for a proper punch. Your head shouldn't be too low and your legs shouldn't be too far apart...unless you want to become sterile."

"Ouch." He said.

"Okay, now come at me."

He grinned, turning around.

"Seriously?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"You're not going to hurt me." I said in a matter of factly tone.

He got into proper stance and moved forward to give me a right hook, I raised my palm to catch it, then he moved his left fist and I closed my other hand around it catching that.

_He's not as fast as me but these punches kind of hurt..._

I moved slightly quicker, punching at him and he ducked by bending backwards so that my fist went over his body. I took that moment of weakness to punch at his stomach which he tried to avoid by jumping backwards, which did nothing but make him slip and fall right on his ass.

"Whoa, you almost got me." he said, getting to his feet.

"Almost?" I repeated. "I could've creamed you just now if I was serious."

I grabbed his hands putting them back up into position.

"You're never supposed to dodge that way... Unless you're a pro."

"Like you?"

I rolled my eyes and turned him around so that I was behind him again.

"Even_ I_ probably couldn't get away with doing that during a real fight." I muttered.

I slid my hands onto his waist right over the belt of his shorts. The position of his body in front of mine made my mind wander certain places but I pulled it back with ease, it was my body that just wouldn't quit.

"When you dodge, you lean forward so that your arms are still in position." I said, pushing him downwards so that he was bent over in front of me.

"That way, you avoid getting your head knocked off and your torso is still protected."

He leaned down again, practicing bending and dodging with my hands on his waist, trying to keep his position level.

"You get what I mean, now?"

I slid the hand on his waist further up and around to his stomach and chest, pulling him back up and against me.

"Because with what you did, I had a perfect shot at punching your guts out." I explained, tapping my hand against his stomach.

"I think I get it." He said, lowering his arms. "But can I ask you something?"

_Why do I feel like he's going to say something ridiculous?_

He turned his neck, grinning at me.

"Do you have something in your pockets or are you just really comfortable right now?" He asked, edging on giggles.

I shoved him away from me.

"THAT'S IT! I TOLD you that you had ONE last chance!" I shouted at him.

He collapsed back onto the carpet, bursting with laugher.

"Why can't you answer the question?"

_Because I _don't_ have anything in my pockets._

Instead of responding, I jumped on him, pinning him to the floor with one hand and raising a fist above his face.

"I can kick your ass at any moment, Hashi. Don't forget that."

"I'm so scared!" he said sarcastically.

"I'm not joking!" I yelled at him.

Suddenly, he moved, grabbing my fist and slamming me down into the carpet next to him. I was completely off guard, even though I thought I had him completely pinned down, and the next thing I knew he'd gotten the leverage to roll over me.

"You talk so damn big but you bite like a freaking puppy!" he said, pinning my wrists down and giggling.

_He's stronger than he looks..._

I frowned, finding it truly hard to get out of his grip.

"Let me up." I finally said.

He smirked at me.

"Say the magic words."

"Screw you." I retorted.

"Bingo." He said.

With his face so close to mine, almost to the point I had to cross my eyes to look at him. I expected he would kiss me. Actually, I was certain he would kiss me. I pushed my legs up against him to get him to stay away from me and was surprised when it worked. He raised himself higher and stopped pinning my wrists down.

_This is so strange... Why isn't he being as impulsive as before...?_

"Five second rule!" A high pitched voice exclaimed as the backdoor burst open. "I saw it first!"

My body instinctively tensed and I sat up, almost hitting my head on Hashirama's.

"Itama, by the time you get out of your chair and_ crawl_ to that cookie on the floor, I'll already be crapping it out." A white haired boy who followed him said.

As the younger one rolled in and the older one walked in, their eyes skimmed over us as they talked to each other but they were too distracted to bother questioning anything.

"Boys, help me with the bags!" A woman's voice went on as she entered the room. "And where's Hashirama? Hashi-"

She froze as her eyes fell on me. I couldn't blame her for stopping. Hashirama was still partly leaning over me and one of my hands was on his chest, trying to push him off.

_Not to mention the fact that he's shirtless..._

Hashirama got to his feet and helped me up, grinning.

"Madara was teaching me boxing stuff." He said to who I assumed was his stepmother who was still staring at us.

Itama's ears perked up.

"Groovy!" he exclaimed. "Can I learn?"

"Maybe if you sit on my shoulders." Hashirama joked.

"Help me get the rest of the bags." She said to him.

"Gotcha squared." He told her as he jumped over the coffee table and slid across the counter.

Tobirama went after him with Itama rolling quickly after him.

"That reminds me, could you stop leaving your crappy underwear in my pillow case!?" He hollered, as they entered the garage.

Hashirama burst into laughter.

"Dude, I've been doing that since you were born and you _just _now realized it?"

"Did you do it to my pillow, too?" Itama asked.

"I do _way_ worse to you!" he yelled.

"...Like WHAT?!"

All of their voices trailed off as they left the house. I walked around the coffee table, about to go after them when she cleared her throat. I paused, looking at her.

"So, you box, huh?" she asked.

I nodded. She flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"Interesting."

"Yeah." I said, going toward the backdoor again.

"I wonder..." she started up again. "Do you get a lot of attention at school? Playing such a cool sport?"

"I don't play it for school." I told her. "Just for recreation."

"Recreation, huh?" she asked, taking some vegetables out of the brown grocery bags. "Do any of the girls in your class appreciate your...recreation?"

I turned around to see her giving me a huge smile.

"Sorry, if I'm intruding." She said, beginning to giggle. "But isn't boxing one of those sports that attract a lot of fangirls?"

I shrugged.

"I'm not too interested in girls right now." I explained. "So, I wouldn't know."

Her smiled faded quickly and all the giggles were gone quicker than lightning. She picked up her knife and began slicing red peppers on a cutting board.

"I see." Was all she said.

Suddenly, a burst of noise filled the kitchen as Hashirama and his brothers ran back in each carrying bags.

"Put them on that counter over there." She said.

"Mom, cook Lasagna." Tobirama ordered as he helped set the bags on the counter.

"I was thinking we could have-" Hashirama spoke up.

Tobirama put his finger up, silencing him.

"No." he interrupted, then he pointed at his mother. "Lasagna, Mom. _Now_."

I watched as Hashirama hunched his shoulders and pouted, or pretended to pout. I knew well enough by then not to believe anything he tried to do.

"Okay, Tobi, just give me a second to get myself together." His Mother said, not even finding it strange at all that her thirteen year old son had just talked to her like she was an infant.

_Pretty obvious who's calling the shots around this house..._

On the other side of the counter, Hashirama pulled his t-shirt back on and slipped his feet into a pair of sandals by the door.

"Let's go, Mada. Didn't you say you had to get there early for warm-ups?" Hashirama asked me.

"Yeah, in like four hours." I muttered, following after him.

"Then, we'll be extra early!" he said, pushing the screen door opening and hopping onto the concrete outside.

As I caught his door, turning to close it behind me, I caught his stepmother gazing at me.

I don't know what it was... Maybe... The way she pursued her lips, narrowed her eyes and gripped that knife as she stared me down... But I got a really strong feeling that woman didn't like me.

She dropped the kitchen knife from where she held it up and cut cleanly through the other vegetables, hacking them down...one by one by one...

**Hashirama**

**Imperfection, Flaws, We're Not God**

I grabbed the first bar of the monkey bars and put my feet through the space in the bars so that I could use my legs to hang upside down.

"Can you do a back flip?" I asked as my shirt fell down almost over my face. "I can land like two in a row."

Madara made a face at my bare chest and walked up to tuck my shirt back into my pants.

"Stop bragging. And do I look like a gymnast?" He asked.

"You _do_ look kinda girlie." I offered.

He slapped my cheek but not hard enough to leave a mark. Speaking of marks, the one on Madara's neck was just beginning to fade.

"Did your parents say anything about that?" I asked him.

He kicked at the playground woodchips underneath me.

"My Father mentioned it." He said, walking over to the swing set which was right next to the monkey bars.

We were at a plain old local park. It wasn't groovy at all, just your average run of the mill playground at the back of a church. The large bell over the catholic cathedral tolled and people walked in and out. From the position I was, upside down, I kept imagining they'd fall off of the world and into space.

"Hashi..." Madara spoke up in that tone that made me know he was serious. "What would you do if your Mom suddenly came home with bruises from her second job?"

I pulled myself up and through the space between two of the bars and swung over so that I was lying atop them.

"You mean, like, someone was hitting her?" I asked him. "Call the police, I suppose."

"You believe the police will do something?"

I shrugged.

"What else is there to do?"

"You ever figure taking matters into your own hands?"

I laughed.

"Like a criminal? I think I'll pass."

The church bell continued to chime. Men in suits and women in prim and proper rosey pink or snow white dresses entered carrying their bibles.

"Do you really think criminals are the only ones who are extreme?" he asked.

I paused, watching all the people and truly thinking about it.

"...Can I tell you the truth?" I asked him.

He had been looking down at the woodchips but with that question, he turned his head up and his eyes made contact with mine.

"All the stuff I normally say... About keeping the peace through being a humanitarian. I believe it. No doubt, I truly believe it but..."

I lowered my head.

"I don't know if I really practice what I preach." I confessed. "I mean, if I was put in the situation, I honestly think I'd destroy whatever is in my path to do what I think is right. Even if that meant kicking someone's ass from here to freaking Timbuktu for _ever _thinking they could put their hands on someone I care about."

"That's just like 'killing the evil', right?" He asked.

"Or killing what I _think_ is evil. Honestly, that word 'evil' and the other one 'good' are nothing more than our own twisted self-perception. Saints and sinners both live within humans. And God and the Devil came from the same heaven."

"The same heaven, huh?" Madara repeated, then he smirked. "I'm always kind of surprised by how much I underestimate you."

Then he rolled his eyes.

"You should stop acting like such an idiot all the time."

"Never." I replied.

We both turned our heads to the chiming church, a low humming tune began to sound. It didn't take long for me to recognize the song.

Swing low, Sweet chariot... Coming for to carry me home.

I smiled down at the Tenor I singing voice coming from below me and dropped down from the monkey bars.

"You _can_ sing!" I discovered.

"We used to play this song, too." Madara told me.

I walked up behind him, grabbing the iron, chains of the swing he was sitting in and looking down at him.

"Which one of the church songs was your favorite?" I asked.

He frowned.

"None of them." He muttered. "All of the happy ones were annoying to play and all of the serious ones were friggin' depressing."

I pushed the swing causing him to drift slightly.

"Well what were your family's favorites?"

"When it came to church songs, my brothers and mom really liked 'Little David play on your harp'" he told me. "And with regular songs, 'My girl' was their favorite."

"What about your Dad?" I asked as I pushed him.

"He didn't play any instruments. He thought they were a waste of time." He said tonelessly.

"Killer." I muttered. "What got up his overalls?"

"Shit if I know." He said. "He's always been distant."

"I thought you liked your Dad." I said.

He raised his head to me.

"What would make you think that?"

I laughed.

"Because you always trash your Mom. But you don't say anything about him."

Kind of like a process of elimination. He talked about everyone except that man. That could've been a bad thing though if Madara didn't talk poorly about everyone he ever mentioned.

He said nothing, continuing to swing as I pushed him. Then slowly he looked back up at me, large, dark eyes so very catching on the pale canvas of his face. Like a painting.

"I thought the same thing about your Mother. That you rarely talk about her so she has to be pretty lousy." He said, then he shook his head. "I used to really like my father."

"Used to?"

He shrugged.

"I guess I just don't see this world as selfish and malicious as I did before... So I have no use admiring someone who does."

I grinned leaning down over his face.

"Could it really be? Thomas Hobbes is shedding his skin!"

He sucked his teeth and pushed me away from him.

"Did your father do something you didn't like?" I asked, plopping down into the swing next to him but facing the opposite direction.

He said nothing, seeming to struggle to put his thoughts into words.

I was putting the pieces together kinda slow but it was falling into place anyway. He had mentioned his father once before unprovoked. During that same conversation when he said his father notices his bruises, and then after that, he asked what I'd do if my Mom ever came home with bruises... Initially, I had just seen it as a weird metaphor he was trying to create but suddenly...

"Is your Dad...hard on you?" I found myself asking.

He shook his head.

"Your brothers?"

He shook his head again.

"It's your Mom, then?"

He was silent. I picked some of the woodchips up off the ground and flicked them.

"It's always been like that though." He finally said. "Even before we started doing the stupid church band thing."

He sighed.

"And it didn't really stop there. My brothers used to talk a lot about him with other women."

I flicked more chips.

"So, I guess he was a dog, too." He muttered.

It was silent for a moment before I spoke.

"You thought what your Father was doing was right?"

He looked down for a moment and then shook his head.

"I don't know. I didn't really think it was wrong. I guess I just accepted it. I didn't really think anything about it."

"But what do you think now?"

He sucked his teeth again and got up from the swing set.

"I don't feel sorry for _that_ woman... That's for sure."

I didn't have any reason to make him feel sorry for her. It was _his _Mother afterall. His life. But his anger toward her made me think of something else.

"My Stepmom was sort of similar to your Mom for a while." I told him.

He stood still, showing he was listening.

"I never mentioned this... None of us really mention it but... When my father had just met Hisa and I was almost a year and a half old, they were due to have a baby." I explained. "But something happened with the pregnancy. Maybe a result of all the dormant radiation poisoning? None of us really know, but he was born dead... His name would've been Kawarama. And for a pretty long time, Hisa was depressed like that."

"Kawarama? Like the dolphin, right?" Madara mumbled.

I nodded.

"When I got older, my Dad mentioned a few times that she got all into drugs around that time and wouldn't even take care of me." I laughed, not really sure why. "Leaving me in my shitty diaper for hours. But then, later she got pregnant and had Tobirama, and she was a lot happier since he was fine."

"That's interesting." He said.

He was still facing forward so I couldn't see the expression on his face but for a strange reason he seemed rigid. Then he turned around, giving me a matter of factly look.

"I hope you're not suggesting my Mother has another child."

"If you want to give up your mondo cool room that you don't have to share." I joked.

He rolled his eyes.

"That woman is older than dirt. If the pregnancy alone doesn't kill her, it'll probably be the actual process."

I burst into laughter, nudging him.

"You're such an asshole."

We stood up. I slid my hands into the pockets of my shorts as we left the playground. The bright, blue sky overhead reminded me of pictures I'd seen of vacations getaways and resorts. I lowered the sunglasses Madara had given me onto my eyes. I had been carrying them around mostly everywhere I went.

"But you know..." Madara started up again. "If you're actually serious about saying that you don't really 'practice what you preach' then wouldn't that mean you gave up on believing?"

I shook my head.

"Locke understood the world." I explained to him. "He understood that evil and pain and selfishness exist, but he believed humans could learn to live without it. I still believe that. I still believe humans are worth being around. I believe in love and friendship and comrades... But it's just that..."

I looked up at him and shrugged.

"I guess it just takes a really strong person to be able to _be_ the change they want to see in the world. I just... I don't know if I can be that strong of a person."

"Spoken like a true philosopher." He said, fitting his own sunglasses over his eyes. "So, murder is still within the realm of things you could do?"

I didn't even hesitate.

"Everything is possible when it comes to humans." I told him.

"But _murder_, though?"

I smiled at him.

"If you want me to say that one day you'll see me in 'Nam or wherever else we'll invade next with an AK on my back and a magazine over my shoulder, you're barking up the wrong tree, dude."

Then I shrugged.

"You can't really know what you'll be capable of until it happens. Maybe in another dimension, it's even possible that I could kill _you_." I said, laughing.

He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, right. The whole planet would be on the brink of destruction before you could ever kill _me_."

"Same here!"

But somehow, as I considered the possibility of an alternate timeline existing, I was pretty sure that in every single dimension there was, evil or no evil, I was connected to him. It was almost like a given.

As we neared the church, and walked past it, the music inside floated out to us, getting louder.

"Do you think there will be someone one day who will be able to 'practice what they preach'?" I asked him.

"Do _you_?" He returned.

"That's what the Locke philosophy is all about! I mean, we may not be that strong, but _someone_ could be. That's why we have to have hope in humanity." I grasped his hand. "That's why you have to continue believing along with me."

"Wango." Madara said in more of a sarcastic tone than seriously.

I sighed.

"I'm over here actually being serious for once..."

"I'm just kidding, okay? I get you." He said, glancing at me. "You're imperfect. You have flaws. We all do. Really, none of us are God... So instead of pretending like you are and preaching all over the place, you should just accept what you're not and live life."

I smiled. If there was anything I really, really seriously liked about Madara was how firmly on the same page he was with me. All the time.

"Totally zen, brother." I agreed.

We continued walking silently. The volume of the music in the church near us attracted Madara's attention. He turned and then a subtle smile crossed his lips.

"...I remember now." He said. "_This _was my favorite song from church."

The low hum of 'Amazing Grace' lifted up and over us like doves fluttering their wings to the bright blue sky beyond...content with just being as imperfect as they were.

Up Next: Now that Hashirama's finished questioning his Mother and Madara's finished questioning his Father, both of them firmly decide which they'd rather have 'each other's love or the acceptance of society' next time! And it gets _HEAVY_. Also...a new character is introduced!? You don't miss this new little princess's debut! She has _a lot _to offer!


	6. Chapter 6

**Madara**

**White Noise **

We were kind of late from having wasted hours just sitting on a playground. The moment I got there, my elder brother's old friend, a boy everyone called by his surname 'Hyuga', that normally trained with me pulled me away from Hashirama and took me to the lockers where I set up to fight.

The low buzz of talking and the shutters of clicking cameras went off like a backdrop. It was a lot louder than I'd ever remembered it being.

"Who's out there?" I asked.

"Like the whole goddamn city." Hyuga replied. "A lot of people are real excited to see you, you know?"

_Me? _

I rolled my eyes.

_More like 'Tsubasa's little brother'. They're all just still in the middle of their 'good Samaritan' week. I bet they'll all show up to Izuna's first little league game, too..._

"It's pretty cereal this time, bro." he said. "The guy's like massive."

"Who is he?"

"Akimichi, something." He said. "The kid's supposed to be like fourteen, right? And he looks like two sumo wrestlers had a love child."

I shoved my mouth guard in as I walked and rolled my eyes.

"You think you're up for this?" He asked.

"Please... They could put _nine _sumo wrestlers in there and I'd _still _kick all their asses."

"Far out." He replied, then he nudged me. "...Hey, sorry about everything with Tsubasa, man. I didn't know he-"

"Forget it." I said, quickly lacing my almost knee high shoes. "It's whatever."

"Well, I'm glad you're still boxing." Hyuga told me.

I set my feet firmly on the ground and continued walking through the narrow hall that led to the arena.

"Wouldn't stop it for the world." I replied.

As I got closer to the gate, the noise got louder. But it was white noise. Static. The kind that you couldn't pay attention to even if you wanted to. When I ducked under the ropes and actually set my Addias on the stage of the arena, that was when everything just exploded.

I blinked, seeing clearly for the first time the amount of people out there. Yelling.

_What the hell are they saying anyway?_

"KICK HIS ASS!"

I lowered my eyes to one boy with almost shoulder length brunette hair standing incredibly close to the ring and shook my head.

_Of course, he would be the loudest._

My eyes locked on the boy standing in front of me with sandy colored hair and a gut twice the size of Jupiter AND it's moons.

He pointed his glove at me and then drug his hand across his neck.

I sighed.

_So lame..._

"On the count of three..." The referee began.

We simultaneously put our gloves up.

"Two..."

I could feel my heartbeat rising loud over the crowd until it was all white noise again. I couldn't explain why but any time I was in a high pressure situation, it was like that. I couldn't hear anything except my own body.

"One..."

We touched our gloves together. And then, like a friggin' nine year old, the guy pulls his arm back and tries to give me the haymaker of a lifetime right off the bat. I dodged it easily and tried to move around him but he kept coming at me with those wide, friggin' bear-claw punches.

The crowd was tense, probably thinking the same thing I was.

_This guy's big so, if I get hit with one of these stupid things, it's probably over..._

Another thing was that he was pretty fast. The reason he'd probably won so many matches wasn't just because he started off trying to throw his most powerful hit, it was also because he was quick enough with it to catch you off guard.

I ducked under his fourth one and broke into his space, hitting him hard in the ribs which was completely exposed.

_The idiot doesn't realize how open those leave you._

Or maybe he did, because he only stumbled back momentarily before he came at me again, swinging.

_The guy's so damn loaded, I'm going to have to throw like five of these straight just to get to him..._

So, I did what I normally did when I was unsure about an opponent.

"You can still dance, can't you?" I asked him.

_Bullshit them with insults._

"My baby brother can throw better than that... And he can actually hit someone."

I couldn't tell if it was getting to him. We moved around each other. Everyone was so loud, I could've screamed to him and no one would be able to hear me except maybe the referee and he didn't give a damn.

"Why doncha stop talking and go for one?" he asked me.

"I don't hit girls." I replied.

His brow furrowed.

"You little pussy, _I_ should be saying that-"

But he was cut off as I lunged at him, going for a punch but psyching out at the last moment and not actually making contact. But he was so shaken, he stumbled back multiple steps and almost fell into the ropes.

"Oh, shit! You're really scared, aren't you, fatty?" I asked him.

He scowled, getting back into position.

"Gonna shit yourself, fatso?"

He put his fists up.

"Don't make me feel sorry for kicking a girl's ass, fat boy." I went on. "I don't think I could live with myself."

He dove at me, just like I was provoking him to, spinning his fists around like he was a freaking helicopter. I could tell my words had gotten to him at that point because he was completely off, just running on adrenaline and attitude. I ducked under them easily and got him in the same spot in his ribs again, this time it seemed to catch him a bit. I got him with two more punches in the stomach, which he was having a hard time protecting, probably because my attack area was so damn large. And when I went for the third one, his back hit the ropes and I let off, pretty certain I'd gotten him.

Outside the ring, it looked like everyone was perpetually in the air from having jumped out of their seats. The blare of the noise returned to me. I could hear everything clearer than antennae television, see everything clearer than a crisp homerun by your favorite ball team, taste everything clearer than... Okay, you get the point.

But what I could see clearer than all that was him, standing front and center. I had expected him to be pumping his fists in the air excitedly like a maniac or yelling or something characteristic of how he was so damn jolly all the time but instead, with the way he looked at me, there was nothing on his face except...awe. I think that was what it was anyway.

_You're always watching me..._

I found a smile spreading onto my face.

_You must really, really..._

At first his watching was so creepy to me. The way he looked, it was like he didn't want to look at anything or anyone else ever again... But slowly, it began to change. I didn't mind his watching.

I_ must really, really..._

All it really made me want to do was watch him back. Watch him forever. Here or there or anywhere. Watch those large, deep brown eyes that were suddenly flicking over to my right frantically.

_Wait... What's...?_

I turned, coming face to face with the sleeper haymaker of a lifetime that caught me so hard it was like I was punched and the ground came up to slam into my back in the same instant.

"YOU CAN SUCK MY COCK, YA PUSSAAAAAAY!" A voice exclaimed as everything fizzed out.

**Hashirama**

**Square One**

"That was insane!" Tsubasa's friend, Hyuga, who normally helped Madara practice said.

"I know right? Did you _see _that fat kid?! Totally stellar!" I added.

"I saw some news reporters, too! What if this ends up in the paper?!"

"Can everybody shut up?" Madara asked, pressing the cold pouch to the cut above his eye. "My head feels like shit."

I grinned at him. He was sitting there on the bench in the locker room between us looking like the sorriest piece of shit the world had ever seen. He really caught a big one out there.

"Bet it feels like you got hit by a truck, huh?" I asked him.

"One more word..." He warned me.

"But you got him back though." Hyuga said, shrugging.

"Yeah, and he got him back, good, too. Honestly, Mada when I saw you hit the floor like that, I just _knew_ you weren't getting up." I told him. "Total black saber!"

"Hell, I thought he _died_." Hyuga remarked.

"But then, right when the guy was about to count all the way to 10, you get up and just started whooping ASS!" I exclaimed.

"It was real copasetic, dude." Hyuga said, then he cocked his head. "But I've been trying to figure out all this time. What the hell had you all distracted in the first place?"

He was still massaging his fists which I guessed were still slightly sore from how hard he'd punched that bastard straight in his ten pile high blueberry pancake face.

"What do you mean, I wasn't distracted." He said, dropping the cold pack into the bucket next to him.

"Dude, you totally were. You were staring out into the audience in a daze."

I could see the tops of his ears tint red again... Like all the way back when I had kissed his cheek.

"Get your eyes checked." He muttered.

Hyuga just shrugged.

"Whatever. I'm heading out, alright?"

He picked up his bag and pressed his hands against the door that lead back into the arena where the clean-up crew was beginning to come out.

"I'm gonna dip in the showers." Madara mumbled.

I watched him get up off the bench and walk to the back of the locker room where I promptly heard a squeaky and most likely rusty pipe come to life and the whoosh of a shower echo through the locker room.

As I walked around the room, pacing, I found I couldn't really get that topic out of my head.

It was like when you feel like you have the answer to something. But you're not even sure what it is, let alone the question.

I replayed the fight in my head again. Madara was staring in my direction, he did kind of look like he was in a daze with the way his head was cocked, almost like he'd just taken a trip or something. The fat Akimichi kid he'd bashed open was hanging onto the ropes and struggling to get to his feet. The referee was counting him down. And then, he just shook his head and got up, just out of sheer willpower and cocked his fist back. Madara turned then, but not quick enough to avoid it and he was literally slammed down into the ground. Like... The guy was spread eagle. And in like two seconds, everything was turned on its head and suddenly_ he_ was getting the countdown. But again, with willpower, he got up on his feet and it was round two! But this time Madara wasn't playing at all. I'd seen him practicing so I knew the first round he was just watching the guy, trying to see what he was about and catch him off guard. But the second round? Madara wasn't watching _shit_ anymore. He went all in and he was just way too fast. The fat kid had _nothing_ on him. It was pretty sad actually. They had to stop the whole thing and call it a TKO...

"Hey, Hashi! Can you bring my bag here?"

I wound back around the lockers, found his bag and headed toward the back.

I remembered when the match was finished, turning around and looking at who was behind me... And three rows back I saw them. So why was I suddenly thinking I assumed the wrong thing?

The shower room was a community one with about a million spouts. I walked near it, looking over the steam to try to see Madara when a hand suddenly jumped out from the side and snatched the bag out of my hands.

"Okay, now step away from the shower." He ordered. "_Now_."

I smirked.

"You really can't be exposed around people, can you?" I asked teasingly.

He didn't respond. I leaned up against the wall next to the opening.

"That asshole probably ended up giving me a friggin' shiner." He complained.

I laughed.

"Yeah because shiners are just so unheard of in boxing."

"On _my_ face they are."

I shook my head and it was silent for a moment. The water in the shower cut off. I listened to his rustling, probably toweling himself dry.

"Well..." I began. "At least you won. And then you and your Mother and little brother can talk to you about it all day."

He came out of the shower room wearing nothing but red and gray underwear and gave me a look as he walked by.

"It's not like I'm going to recap the whole thing to them."

My brow furrowed.

"Why would you need to?" I asked. "I mean, they both saw the whole thing themselves, right?"

He stopped walking and turned back to look at me very slowly.

"...What are you talking about?" He asked. "My family wasn't here."

"Your Mom was only about two rows behind me. Along with your brother and even those guys you like hanging out with so much." I told him as I neared him.

He continued looking down momentarily and then shook his head.

"Nah, you must've seen someone else."

This settles it though. It settles it completely. Because if he wasn't looking at his family behind me to get distracted, then who the heck was he looking at?

He dug into his back and slipped on a clean pair of gray Nike shorts with green stripes.

It was like that 'no way' moment. Both of us were having it. He was all 'no way' about his Mother actually getting her fat lazy ass up to come to his boxing match, probably because there could've been no way she'd even known about it, I mean who could've told her? And I was all 'no way' at the thought that he actually could've almost lost his boxing match because he was watching..._me_.

We both sat down on the bench between the two rows of lockers and straddled it with both of our legs on either side. He pulled a royal blue t-shirt out of his back and pulled it on over his head as I dipped my hand in the bucket next to us.

"You know, your shiner will stick around longer if you don't put a compress on it." I said, pulling the cold pack out and sticking it back to his forehead.

"This thing will probably stick around longer no matter what I do."

"Ah, I'd probably say only about five or six months...maybe years."

He smirked. I moved his hair out of his eye so I could reach the cut better. He gazed at me and then a funny feeling set in my stomach and I realized how he was staring at me... Like... He was expecting something. Or more so like he was expecting me to do something.

But... Hisa said...

"_Queers are just weak hearted people who get tainted with the devil."_

And also that...

"_God punishes humans the same for both."_

So I couldn't do anything. Ever since that time at the beach, I couldn't... But I couldn't deny that I'd thought about it. Madara's hand rose and covered mine which was pressing the cold pack to his forehead. Actually, it was like eating and breathing... I thought about it almost compulsively. Every single day, I wondered if I would be the weak hearted person Hisa said I was becoming...

"What's up with you? Five seconds passed and you haven't said or done anything completely ridiculous." Madara spoke up.

"I'm just thinking." I replied.

"What about?" he asked me.

I shook my head.

"I don't know..."

He gave me a funny look.

"Did you just...lie to me?" he asked.

It seemed to be amusing to him. He raised his eyebrows like he was truly surprised.

"Now I _know _you must be thinking about something heavy."

I lowered the cold compress from his face and tossed it into the bucket. He sighed over dramatically.

"I don't have to be the one to say it, do I?" he asked.

He put his hands together in a mock-romantic way.

"You can tell me anything, Hashirama. I'm always here for you." He said in that thick sarcastic tone that reminded me of the first time we met.

I smiled.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Dude, just give me the skinny already!"

"Okay... Okay... I wasn't completely lying. I don't really know what I'm thinking yet but... I think... Maybe I could clear my thoughts better if you helped me."

He cocked his head.

"How?" He asked.

I gripped the bench somehow feeling incredibly apprehensive.

"Just...close your eyes for a second."

He looked at me untrustingly but then shook his head and obeyed.

It was different for some reason. The first time I'd kissed him on the cheek and even at the beach, both of those times... I didn't need him to close his eyes or stay still. I didn't anything at all. I just...

"Well...?" Madara said impatiently.

But it was different. Those times it was innocent. I didn't really think about it. It was impulsive. I couldn't even really stop myself at all. It was pure. I didn't expect it to continue or anything. But this one... This one was a decision. This one was deciding to kiss him...knowing...knowing...that... That Hisa said...

"I'm getting old here..." Madara muttered.

That I might as well just be a murderer...

I reached over and touched his hair, so soft, so dark and delicate. I ran my hand through it and found the base of his neck which my fingers slid down. His ears reddened. There was a slight tremor to his body. But he didn't open his eyes. It was like he wasn't even breathing.

I leaned toward him. Taking an axe to the gates of hell and completely allowing whatever demons nested there to overtake me. With the low, yellow hum of the lights above us as our only audience, I kissed him. He went rigid and I could feel the warming of his face around my lips, the rushing of blood as his posture straightened and his hands pressed against my chest. My other hand, the one that wasn't stroking his neck and sliding into his hair was on his bare thigh, reaching for his crotch. He jolted underneath me, grabbing my hand.

"Hashi..." he said, pulling his lips away. "We... We shouldn't..."

He could probably feel it too. The difference in that kiss.

"I know." I whispered, allowing my lips to find his neck. "I know it's wrong but just trust me..."

His hands had been pressing against my chest to keep me away but then they softened, somewhat holding me against him as my lips made their way down his neck. It was only for a second though, then he shook his head.

"I... I can't..."

"Madara, it's okay..." I said quietly. "It's just me..."

He had been resting by sliding backwards along the bench but when I said that, he hesitated, allowing me to lean forward and kiss him the second time. And that kiss was different, too. Our mouths, slightly open, connected and my tongue met his. When that happened, he didn't try to push me away anymore. It was almost like he melted against me. My hand caressed his warm, bare chest, lovingly fresh from the shower he just took. And his spare hand settled on my waist, content at using the belt loop in my shorts to pull me more firmly against him.

It was beginning to come together during all that. All of the breathing and slight moaning and his hand slowly coming around to the front of my shorts and my hand already untying the knot on his. It was coming together. With our bodies pressed together and my excitement literally almost bursting through the seams of my shorts, I was beginning to see something I hadn't seen previously. Like a prior plane of existence or another dimension or something... Something that could explain how that could feel so good to me but then...

"MADARA?!"

It makes sense that we didn't hear it. Because... We were so into what we were doing. Everything else was like white noise. Static on television. Even the clear as day sound of a five to ten pound door swinging the fuck open and slamming the fuck closed right fucking next to us!

He shoved me immediately, like how a cat lands on its feet, I swear it could've been written into his DNA code or something.

He got up quickly, I could almost see his brain through his eyes moving through thousands and thousands of different excuses and a million different scenarios but he ended up just saying...

"...What do you want?"

My eyes turned then, pausing on our intruders and I found I wasn't surprised at who it turned out to be.

A light brown haired kid who normally wore a skully over his hair and colorful plaid buttoned up shirts, Hiruzen Sarutobi. And a kid with wavy black hair that he had styled in sort of a girl-ish way, like he spent hours in front of the mirror in the morning, Kagami Uchiha. And lastly, a kid with a scar on his chin who was always wearing t-shirts under his buttoned downs and couldn't be caught without an angry expression on his face, Danzo Shimura.

"What are you doing in here?" Danzo asked.

The other two, the lackeys, looked like they didn't even know where to begin. Madara glanced at me and then, seeming to mentally wipe my existence out of his brain, he snapped his fingers at them.

"Come on. Let's walk and talk." He said, going over to them and picking up his bag on the way.

You're probably thinking I stayed there like a good little housepet and waited for him to get back, right? Christ, you don't know me...

I snuck along the wall inside the hallway that led to the arena, near the ring, where every single audience member had already left. There, Madara talked to his friends.

"What... What's going on?" Hiruzen asked.

Madara rolled his eyes like it was the dumbest question on Earth.

"Nothing." He said. "And, anyway, what are you guys-"

"Do you think we're blind?" Kagami asked him. "You were just kissing that board shorts kid!"

His voice echoed throughout the arena.

"I wasn't, it was just-"

"What CPR?" Danzo asked him, actually showing something similar to a smile for once. "Were you _suffocating_?"

"Shut up, I said it wasn't-"

"Jesus, Madara! What the hell were you thinking?" Kagami asked him. "I mean... What are your parents going to think?!"

"Hey, shut the hell up, okay?!" He yelled. "And let me fucking talk!"

Everyone's voices subsided.

"It wasn't anything! He's just... He's a weirdo, okay? He thinks it's funny to do weird shit like that, I was trying to get him off me and he wouldn't stop."

I shifted, standing where I was in the hall. I felt a sweat prickling up all around my body. My eyes closed but my ears, extended, wanting to hear more.

"He's just all over me all the time. I don't know what his deal is but he doesn't have anything to do with me..."

Then he turned to Kagami.

"And if you say one word about this to anybody in my family, I swear you'll be waking up in the goddamn ER with no legs and half a brain."

Kagami backed up, palms in the air.

"Veg out, man, I mean... It just looked weird is all."

Hiruzen nodded.

"You're lucky we were the ones that saw you." He said, seeming to relax. "Or else some bad stuff about you really could've gotten around."

"Well, some bad stuff_ still_ could get out about you." Danzo said crossing his arms.

Madara turned to him. They stared each other down.

"But that's only if you decide not to come back... Right?"

Silence boomed through the arena. It wasn't really clear what was going to happen. But I knew from experience that if there was anything Madara hated, it was being told what to do.

"What's the skinny?" Madara finally asked.

"You come back to our team... And completely forget about that jive turkey. And we'll pretend we didn't see a thing."

"I already told you it was nothing."

Danzo shrugged.

"Hey, I don't know that for sure."

I knew Madara wanted to punch his lights out. I sure would've wanted to. But he held his ground, probably because punching him only would've made things worse.

"Fine." He said.

"Yes!" Kagami cheered.

"And in great time, too! We were just about to get a huge lead with Orange Sweater!" Hiruzen said.

Danzo just smirked, glad he'd gotten his way. They all began walking toward the back of the arena. But, as though sensing my presence, Madara glanced back and looked at me. Our eyes locked. Our hearts, which used to travel on the same wavelength, fumbled...and skipped a beat...and lost each other's signal. He continued walking... And again, I wasn't sure of anything. I thought I was seeing something, feeling something, understanding a bit more about myself... But before I could fully grasp it, come to terms with what it was, it all ended before it even started and I was back at square one. The empty square. The square of disaster.

**Madara**

**In The End...**

In the end, it all went back to the beginning. Except that I spent way less time directing our 'gang' and more time just letting Danzo run rampant. Which he embraced fully. New rules. We do everything his way. We wear green. We use hockey masks instead of black wool caps. We carry loaded guns all the time. We don't hesitate to fire off a warning shot. And that would've been fine if it wasn't for the fact that...

"I think there are more than one 'Orange Sweater'." Hiruzen had said one day.

_It's about to turn into a gang war._

"How do you figure that?" I asked.

"Because every time we run into the guy, his weight and height are a bit off." Hiruzen said, then he gave me a funny look. "Can't you tell?"

There was one picture we had of Orange Sweater. The first one we took when Danzo first put ammo in his gun. It was blurry but the person was thin and kind of short. Not the thicker body we encountered earlier that day.

"I noticed that, too." Danzo said as he turned around in the desk chair he'd brought in.

_It was probably the closest thing to a throne that his money could buy..._

Kagami frowned.

"There might be a whole gang of them... You know, maybe we should just turn over all of our thoughts to the police and get out of it." Kagami said, for once sounding serious.

"What thoughts?" Danzo asked. "We don't even have suspects."

"But weren't you the one who wanted to involve the police in the first place?" I asked him.

"Not for this one." Danzo said. "These guys are our rivals..."

_There are no rivals in crime, you idiot... _

"Tomorrow after school, we're gonna stake out for these guys. Guns loaded. If we can get one, we might be able to get him to out all of his friends." He said, then strangely he smiled. "We're gonna be having some new recruits soon anyway, so it won't be hard for us."

_Recruits..._

My mind flashed back to a conversation I'd had the day before. As soon as I'd gotten home with Danzo and the others. Danzo said...

"And also, just as reassurance for your position..." he pointed then.

I turned to see where his finger was directed. At Izuna practicing some skateboard trick off the edge of the driveway.

"You understand, don't you?" Danzo said, crossing his arms. "We need some extra weight around, to do other things."

But I knew what it was... It was nothing more than a way to keep me locked in, just in case I still decided to go traitor.

I could've said no. I could've stood up for my younger brother like the elder brother I was supposed to be. I could've told him to suck my cock, drop off a mountain, kick his dick, punch his lights out, anything... Anything other than what I did say.

"I don't care." I mumbled, looking away.

"Good." Danzo said, before he dropped off the porch and went down the walk. "Hey, Izu! Let me talk to you for a second..."

I don't know what he said to him. But ever since then, I noticed one of my hoodies was missing from my closet. And he barely talked to me. He barely even looked at me.

"You know, there's two kinds of people in this world, Danzo." Kagami said. "People in jail and people not in jail. And honestly, with the way you're running stuff, I feel like we're about to become the other kind of people."

Hiruzen laughed.

He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever."

Kagami and Hiruzen often dropped hints like that as a way to get me to be myself again. But I wasn't even sure if who I was around them before _was _myself.

_This guy... This one guy... He's confused me so much I don't even know who I am anymore._

I still saw Hashirama in school. Often times, actually. Even when I'd rather have seen anyone in the world except him. It was like fate just dragged us back together.

Hiruzen nudged me.

"Look, dude. Look at that..."

I raised my head to one of the lockers near the main exit of the building. Hashirama's locker. Someone had spray painted something on it in huge letters.

"Oh, wait!" Kagami said, snickering. "Here he comes!"

There was a small crowd gathered. People curious to see what would happen when he saw it. Hashirama stopped in front of his locker cocking his head at the large, messily spray painted words: "QUEER" in red dripping letters and laughed.

"Really funny guys!" He called.

The crowd around him snickered... But unlike the first day of school, it was clear as day no one was laughing with him anymore. He opened his locker and...

_What the hell!?_

A vat of rotten food was pulled off the top shelf and fell onto the floor in front of him. That was when, like a timer, everyone burst into laughter. Almost like they were expecting it. Kagami was almost rolling on the floor. Hiruzen grinned but then, seeing my expression, he quickly stopped smiling.

"Let's go find Danzo." He said, gripping my arm and pulling me away.

And that was only the day right after my boxing match. It couldn't have spread around that quickly. Unless one of the three did it... And it was clear as day who'd probably done it. It made me want to kick myself. I was so hasty in trying to protect my own reputation, I never factored into the equation that Danzo would think to out Hashirama in my place.

The bell rang. Everyone rushed to class. He knelt there...alone. Trying to pull his textbooks out of that crap.

But it was perfect, though. A surefire way to turn him into a social pariah no one would dare even step in the same room with. A surefire way to keep me with them and far away from him. Sometimes I couldn't believe I had ever doubted how far he would take his conniving.

"Did you hear the board short's kid is a faggot?" One red haired kid asked.

"Dude, I know! And you think you know a guy..."

But it wasn't like I was going to stand up anytime soon and shout everyone down. Some people can't practice what they preach. Some people aren't strong enough to be the change they want to see in the world. Hashirama said that himself. So he couldn't blame me if i... if I just...

Watched with the other kids as he sat down in his desk next to me only to have it scream, screech and explode under him, reduced to nothing but bits of metal and broken wood.

Mr. Uzumaki rolled his eyes.

"Who did this to his chair?!" He yelled. "Who?!"

But no one cared to listen to him. They continued whispering and snickering as he got up and, because of a lack of seats, was forced to sit in the front of the room next to the board.

_But you really can't blame me... Blame me if I..._

Watched him sit up there alone and get consistently pelted with spit balls. Or watched us go to every class after that with some new, embarrassing thing happening to him. Pushpins in his chair, spiders in his hair, an egg somehow falling into his lap at lunch, someone's leg just so happening to stick out and trip him during gym, people smacking his books out of his hands, and those words on his locker: "QUEER" somehow changing to "FAGGOT" throughout the course of the day.

_Hashirama... _

And maybe it was because of that question hanging over my head. But I didn't want to be the leader anymore. I didn't want to be anything anymore. I let Danzo do what he wanted and my mind wandered. Constantly watching him... Even though... After that day... He never ever set his eyes on me again.

_Do you blame me?_

**Hashirama**

**Hello Again**

My feet slapped against the linoleum steps firmly echoing throughout the staircase. I was already breathing hard like I had asthma or something and my legs felt like the wanted to fall off and my stomach was about to turn over but my brain kept screaming for me to run.

"He's gonna get away! Hurry!"

I almost tripped and busted my ass on the last step. Stairs were like a death trap for me. Honestly, whoever invented stairs was just out to get me. But I was able to get over it and shove the door open. A thickly cool breeze rushed onto me, blowing my hair off my forehead and I sprinted across the roof of one of the tallest buildings in the area.

The door slammed back open behind me and about three pairs of feet slapped against the concrete behind me.

"Corner him!"

Maybe it was because I'd watched way too many action movies when I was younger but, looking at the gap between the building I was standing on and the building next to it, I was pretty sure I could make it.

"It's just like the tree and the window. Just like the tree and the window." I whispered to himself.

"Wait, is he gonna jump?"

I got to the last bit of cement my feet could stand on and pushed up from the ground. Or at least that's what I would've done if I was freaking INSANE.

"Holy Shit!" I shouted, feet skidding right toward the edge of the building. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck..."

I normally didn't curse so heavily but... Oh, who the fuck am I kidding, I was gonna DIE!

"Grab him!"

I raised my hands, backing up as far as I could as they corned me to the edge.

"Uh... Can we talk?" I asked.

I looked up at them then. The people who almost inadvertently killed me. They all wore dark blue jeans, timberland boots, and green tops. One was wearing a green jacket, the other a hoodie, and the other a t-shirt.

They were all silent.

"You know... Queers are like murderers... So if you kill me, wouldn't that make you just as bad as a queer?"

One of them stepped toward me threateningly.

I glanced below me, surprised at what I saw and then smirked. It was like, suddenly, God was giving me a pass or something. I mean, it wasn't the safest way to go down, but it certainly was safer than trying to jump ten feet across nothing but the gates of hell.

Just as they were about to reach for me, I stepped back off the building, foot resting on nothing but air, and waved as I plunged down. You could've made Halloween masks out of their faces. They looked like they'd seen death! Which they probably would've if the gutter pipe to the building wasn't directly under me and cut away from the building in a way that I could grasp and slide safely the entire way down. Hell, what am I talking about, safely?! I honestly thought I was going to die...

My heart was in my chest as my feet pounded against the ground in the alley way.

"...I'm getting too old for this..." I groaned as I shook the stinging pain out of my feet.

I backed up, seeing their masks bent over the edge but not one of them dared to follow me. One of my widest grins stretched over my face as I pointed to my ass.

"Kiss it, you assholes!" I shouted.

One of them pointed at me.

"You better hope you're not still down there... Faggot."

They walked off then, content at scaring the living shit out of me, which is what I'm sure they wanted. I broke into a run, taking their advice at trying not to be down there but when I spun around the corner I ran into the most random person I'd ever expected to see. The person had their back turned to me, stuffing something into a backpack and then turned, deep red hair falling over their shoulder.

"Mito?!" I said at the same time she said: "Hashirama?"

A car drove by quickly, honking as it did. The burst of sound reminded me that I was on the run.

"I, uh, have to go." I said, running around her.

She grabbed my wrist firmly.

"Wait, I haven't seen you in ages, Hashi, how-"

I looked over her head frantically.

"I know, I know, but this really isn't a-"

"I'll come with you." She said, nodding seriously.

It was one of those times where you don't care what the hell someone is talking about as long as they talk about it while you're doing what you want to do... Which for me was get the hell out of there.

I broke into a jog and she ran with me, still holding my hand. In the bustling city of Westside Konoha, it wasn't too difficult to blend into the mesh of suits and ties on their breaks or blinking turning signals on cars or dogs being walked on their way to the central park.

I was lucky enough that the city bus had just stopped at the stop when we got there. Completely out of breath, we both got on the bus and made our way all the way to the back. I just had to stare up at the ceiling of the bus for a few seconds... Really, it was that intense.

"What the heck are you running away from?"

I turned my head, finally realizing who I was talking to.

It had been forever and a day since I'd seen her. Seriously... We went way back, even further than kindergarten. Her family used to live right next to mine so we'd been friends since the diaper years. Even when she moved when we were in third grade, we were still friends at school. But I hadn't really spoken to her or any of the rest of the crew much after the new busing system had me going to NorthSide Konoha High School instead of SouthSide where she lived and where I should've been going. The fact that I ended up running into her in WestSide Konoha was completely lost on me.

"Nothing." I said, pushing my hair off my forehead. "Just this whole...crazy thing."

She laughed.

"Crazy? Remember what you and I used to do? I honestly don't think it could get much worse."

I grinned.

"Speaking of that, still hanging out with a bunch of heads?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes.

"You're one to talk. All of your friends are heads. Remember?"

"Was." I corrected. "I...haven't really caught up with them in a long time."

She pulled a small, hand mirror out of her purse and looked at her face.

"Really? Who are your new friends?"

"Ah... No one really."

She raised her eyebrows.

"So you've just been alone all this time?" she asked, smirking like she didn't believe me.

"I mean... No. There was this one guy but... It didn't really work out well."

"How'd you figure that?" she asked, using a cotton ball to fix a make-up smudge on the corner of her mouth.

I turned my head and found myself gazing out of the window.

It's all because I'm an idiot... Really...

"It's a really long story. I...don't really feel like talking about it." I said quietly.

She reached over and tugged on my ear.

"You're turning red." She said, smiling widely.

Suddenly, my palms felt sweaty. I rubbed them on my shorts.

"Sooo... What brings you to Westside anyway?" I asked, eager to change the topic.

"Business." She said, shrugging. "I had to pick up something from the post for my Dad."

"Dad?" I repeated.

For as long as I'd known her, she hadn't had a father.

"I never mentioned this to you, but when I first moved away, it was to move closer to my Father." She explained. "My Mom wanted me to finally have a relationship with him."

"And how's that going?" I asked.

"Shitty." She said, grinning. "He's a real stickler... Probably because he's a high school teacher."

We both snickered.

"So, I see you're still wearing your swim shorts every day."

I patted my dark purple shorts.

"Yup. Perfect for surfing."

"Tobirama still addicted to the water, too?"

"Nah... He's into baseball now. The little twerp."

She laughed, light gray eyes piercing into mine.

"And what about my favorite little crybaby?"

"Still crying." I replied.

"Naturally." She said, giggling. "So, are you going home?"

I nodded.

"Can I come with?"

I turned to her, surprised to see that she was actually serious. I guess when you spend an entire day flinching from people just walking by and afraid to open your locker, that kind of thing can trip you up.

"What for?" I asked her.

She shrugged.

"I guess, now that I ran into you again, I'm just interested in what you're getting up to." She told me. "I tried to reach you a couple times. But no one was ever home when I went."

I couldn't help but feel kind of guilty when she said that. Almost like I was obligated to let her come over. I mean, we'd been pretty close friends all the way back when.

It wasn't long until the bus dropped us off close enough to walk to my home and she smiled, taking in the bright sunny day and adjusting her brown leather over the chest purse on her shoulder.

"Same old house, huh." She said, gazing at my one story piece of crap.

"Don't stare too long, you'll notice the moss growing up the side and the bird shit on the shutters."

She laughed.

"Stepmom still dragging her feet on getting that renovation?"

"Dragging her feet? More like dragging her whole damn body."

I pushed the door open, which surprisingly, was unlocked and came face to face with the topic of conversation who was carrying a plate of dirty dishes.

We both grinned at her sheepishly.

"Heyyy... Hisa." I said.

She gave me a suspicious look but when she glanced at Mito standing next to me, her expression broke into complete confusion.

"...Mito? Is that you?"

Mito grinned, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Good Afternoon, Ms. Senju."

"Well... Come on in!" She exclaimed. "Let me put these in the sink so I can give you a hug!"

Which she hurriedly did and then, as I closed the door behind us, ran back up to her and threw her arms around her.

"Oh, you've gotten so big now!"

"Don't tell me that, Hisa, I'll want to shed some pounds!"

"Oh, jump back!" Hisa said. "You look fine!"

I headed toward the refrigerator, completely content with using food to distract myself from all the girl talk. As I set my backpack on the floor, the sunglasses, which I normally kept in the outer pocket, bounced out and clattered to the floor. I had that time freeze moment. You know when you think you broke something you dropped and you just look at it... Like, you can mentally reverse what just happened even though it's impossible. I slowly bent down and picked it up, expelling a huge breath of air when I realized they weren't broken, and slid them on top of my head as a better keeping space.

"Nice shades." Mito suddenly said, leaning over the counter. "Where'd you get them?"

"Uh... Just... A friend gave them to me." I said.

"The same 'mysterious' friend?" She asked, smiling widely.

I stood up straight to see Hisa eyeing me strangely from the sink. It was one of those looks you couldn't really tell what the reasoning behind it was. So, I chose to lie. Just in case. Even though people don't normally tell you, lying is usually safer than telling the truth if you aren't certain what someone's thinking.

"No, another friend." I said quickly. "Uh... Anyway... I have some homework to do, so-"

"Why don't you spend the day with Mito, Hashirama?" My Stepmother asked quickly. "Since you haven't seen her in such a long time."

Bad idea... _Really_ bad idea... See, it wasn't like I had other plans or anything, but if there was one thing that week taught me it was that being out in the open was a huge no-no.

"I, uh, sort of have to-"

"Come on, Hashirama, your homework can wait." Hisa prodded me.

"I know but, I just, uhm-"

"It's casual, Hisa." Mito told her. "I have something to do later anyway."

"Well, why don't you guys just stay inside for a bit?" She asked. "I can bake some cupcakes."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Are you sure? Isn't your second shift supposed to be starting soon?" I asked her.

She glanced at her watch and inaudibly cursed.

"You're right!" she said. "I have to go. But have fun kids!"

She pushed the backdoor open and sped out toward the garage. Mito peeked around.

"So where is the oh-so-mature Tobirama and his innocent side-kick Itama?"

"They should be at Tobirama's little league practice." I said.

Hisa had honestly felt pretty bad about Tobirama struggling so hard just to get across town and go, so she decided to take her break at a different time so she could drive him to his practice. I didn't usually go with them. Hisa was always suspicious over why I always had "some excuse".

She clasped her hands behind her back and walked in the direction of my bedroom.

"Any idea when they're coming home?" She asked.

I followed after her as she took the liberty of pushing my door open. She was like that. She never really waited for anything.

"Madara's mom usually drops them off in like an hour." I said.

Her ears perked up as she nudged Tobirama's backpack to the side.

"Madara?" she repeated. "Who is that?"

"Huh?" I asked.

She plopped down on my bed.

"You said 'Madara', who is he?"

I blinked.

Did I say Madara?

"Uh... No one really."

She shifted on my bed, just so happening to lean back in such a way that one of her hands slid underneath my pillow. She grabbed, fingers closing around something, which she pulled out. My eyes widened as it locked on the bright red thing.

"What's this?" she asked, beginning to open it.

"Don't touch that!" I exclaimed, reaching for it.

She grinned. And I could tell we were already on different pages. See, she thought I was joking. I wasn't joking.

I launched myself over her in an effort to grab the binder and literally almost snapped her neck in the process.

"What's in here?" She asked, trying to hold it away from me. "Is it really that serious?"

I snatched it away from her.

"Just... Don't worry about it." I said, throwing it up on the top bunk, Itama's bed. "It has Itama's doctor's appointments and stuff in there. Hisa would kill me if I got it messed up... That's all."

She crossed her legs. She had on these really short pair of pinstriped shorts and brown timberland boots.

"What's up with you today?" she asked. "You seem so finicky."

I stuffed my hands into my pockets.

"I'm not. It's just-"

"You can tell me." she said, offering me a small smile. "I promise I won't tell."

I rubbed my sweaty palms on my pants as I slowly dropped onto the bed.

I already knew I couldn't tell her everything. Next thing I knew, she'd be chasing me around the freaking city screaming 'faggot' everywhere...

"I don't know how I could explain it to you."

She cupped her chin in her palm.

"Well... Maybe if we talk about something small, first? Like, can I smoke in here, or...?"

I laughed.

"Same old Mito..." I said, grinning. "You know Hisa doesn't give a damn."

She immediately dug into her purse and pulled out a baggie.

"Do you have something I could roll this up in?"

I dipped under my bed momentarily and pulled a shoe box cover out.

"So, are you still dropping acid, too?" I asked.

"Are you still acting like a narc?" she wanted to know.

I grinned.

"Don't hate me because I'm good at avoiding peer pressure!"

"It's not peer pressure, it's cooling off, brother." She said, pulling a one dollar bill out of her wallet.

She promptly used it to roll up her mary jane.

"I guess that's just the only thing we never really could see eye to eye on." I suggested.

"Nah, I get what you mean. Kills brain cells. Fucks up your mentality. But hey, hippies don't need many brain cells anyway. We got enough heart all on our own."

Her mention of the word "hippie" got my attention. I recalled, when we were younger, that she used to be pretty solidly "peace and love" and all that jazz.

"So you're still picketing outside city hall?" I asked her.

She frowned slightly right before she lit the joint and took a hit.

"Picketing?" She repeated, she blinked rapidly with the smoke in her face. "...Did I?"

I laughed.

"Dude, yeah, remember? You used to braid your hair in that halo thing and go passing flowers around to people wearing moccasins and tie-dye t-shirts."

"Hey!" She said, holding up a finger. "Don't diss the tie-dye, those shirts taught me life."

"So you're still about that?"

She paused momentarily and then, finally, after taking two more hits in silence, she looked up at me.

"Yes and no." she told me. "I mean, I still believe it. That this world would be a lot better if everyone was just a lot kinder to each other and there were no more wars or arguments or hatred."

Then she shrugged.

"But handing out flowers to people doesn't do a damn thing." She grinned at me. "...Why didn't you tell me how stupid I looked when I was doing that?"

I laughed.

"You wouldn't have listened to me anyway!" I pointed out. "Besides... I really admired what you did."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. I mean... To me, you seemed like one of the few people in this world who could actually 'practice what they preach'."

She smiled.

"I still practice it. Just...not by handing out flowers." She looked down at her blunt. "Life's about changing, you know? Growing up and realizing that the reason there is no peace is because sometimes war is necessary."

"Wow." I said, smile fading. "That's almost...completely opposite from before."

"Not completely." She said. "I think that, if my end goal is still the same, it doesn't matter if I'm handing out primroses or hydrogen bombs."

She looked at me in the eyes then.

"At least I'm trying, you know?"

I nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I hear you loud and clear."

"But you just don't agree?"

"Yes and no." I said, mostly to mock her.

She rolled her eyes and tilted her mary jane toward me.

"Want a hit?"

I stared at her for a moment and then nodded, grasping it firmly between my pointer finger and thumb.

"Fuck it." I told her. "I seriously need a cool off."

"I should put this shit in the daily press. The day Hashirama Senju succumbs to peer pressure." Mito joked.

"It's still an accomplishment after five plus years of having you and our other junky friends as role models." I laughed, before pushing it past my lips.

She glanced around my room and her eyes locked on a white-washed jean jacket hanging on the post of my bed.

"This is hip." She said, checking it out. "When did you get this?"

I stared at it for a while, feeling strangely overwhelmed with emotion as I blew the smoke out and it swirled in my field of vision.

"Just a while ago." I replied, taking another hit.

She turned and smiled at me.

"I feel like no time has passed at all. You're still my Hashirama even after all this time."

I was still looking at the jean jacket, but then I directed my eyes to her.

"_Your_ Hashirama?"

She grinned as I took another breath of the smoke.

"Yup. Little guy with a big mouth that always lands him right in detention." She said, snickering.

"You used to be sitting in there right next to me, you know." I reminded her.

"Yeah, trying to give you a break!" She pointed out.

We laughed, thinking about old times. But as I did, I couldn't help but inwardly disagree with her. Disagree that... I really wasn't 'her' Hashirama anymore. That boy she remembered. Inside I was becoming someone a lot different. Someone she may never be able to understand. And with what she said earlier, I wondered if the same was happening to her.

She leaned in closer to me, plucking the joint out of my mouth.

"Are you sure you haven't found any new friends?" She asked me, batting her eyelashes.

We stared at each other. I didn't say anything. I wasn't really sure what to say. Lie, tell the truth, I didn't know. With the marijuana making everything all squiggly, I wasn't even sure which was which in my head.

"You know what? I just realized I have to go." She said, getting up off the bed.

I blinked at her.

"Go where?"

"My Dad wants me to go to the post office. Mail off some package or something. Anyway, I'll just stop by around this time tomorrow. You should be here at the same time, right?"

"Uh... My life is pretty unpredictable. I'd say just be thirty minutes late just in case." I told her.

She stared at me for a long time and then put a hand on my head.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do, okay, Hashi?"

I nodded, watching as she walked around me and my bed. I stayed there, seated until I heard the backdoor open and close.

It wasn't too bad at first. But the longer I sat there, the more I felt like my brain was doing freaking backflips and cartwheels in my head. Things happened in clips. Movie clips. I pulled my shirt off. Then I was gripping the edge of the bunk bed and knocking my head against it. My shirt came back on. My red binder was in my hands and I was flipping through the pages, my pencil began like a drawing motion but instead of drawing there were words... Lots of them. All over the pages. Really large and twisted. Page after page after page until the binder was on the floor. I was grabbing my hair. My feet tapped all around the floor, all around the house, all around and around and around. And then, suddenly, the phone was in my hand. I was dialing a number and it was ringing... Ringing...

"Hello?"

"Uh.. Uhm... Hey, uhm... Is Madara there?"

"Who is this?"

"Yeah... uh... I'm uhm... Hashirama?"

"What the hell do _you_ want?"

"I... Just... I really, really just-"

"Why don't you get a FUCKING girlfriend and stop FUCKING stalking him, you FAGGOT!?"

There was a dial tone. But that yell, that statement. It was the kind that made you wonder about yourself. Why did I do that? Why? I just wanted to tell him I was sorry. That I was sorry... But... Why did I think that he would want to hear that? ...Why? He hates me. Everyone does. And... That's that.

**Madara**

**I'm Done Playing God**

_I wonder what would've happened if I chose Hashirama instead of myself._

"Go, go go!" Kagami yelled.

Gun shots rang out in the air, it sounded like a freaking bomb went off.

_I wonder if I would've been fine handling all the bullshit he has to deal with everyday along with him...by his side._

"You can't be serious, Madara! Come back!" Hiruzen exclaimed.

Everyone was ducking but I was standing and running, running toward our threat.

_And more importantly than that, I wonder if I'd be caught in a friggin' gunfight because of Danzo's wayward and out of control fuck ups!_

It was like a repeat of the first time we'd seen Orange Sweater. Except this time, Danzo and I didn't argue over the best course of action. He simply said:

"We're doing my plan. Do you remember it?"

And everyone nodded. And I mentally kept imagining I had my guitar in my hands, strumming the cords to the song I promised to learn for Hashirama.

_I learned it, you know? I did but..._

"Okay, so on the count of three, we flood him." Danzo said.

_But it's too late to show it to you... Because..._

We jumped up, coming up around the car with our guns raised.

_I was a jerk._

"Hands up, you bastard!" Danzo yelled. "Get your hands up!"

The person paused, crowbar in hand. While Danzo and I kept our guns on the person, Hiruzen and Kagami spread out, in search for helpers since Hiruzen had suggested that there may be more than one. Which there most likely was. It was actually a pretty obvious observation, one I'd made almost right after our first encounter with the person. Orange Sweater turned around slowly, wearing their classic sweater, a pair of black sweat pants that seemed incredibly baggy and a black face mask to shield their face, akin to our hockey masks.

"And you better drop that shit this time, asshole!" Danzo went on.

The person slowly bent down, slowly, slowly, allowing the crowbar to reach the ground but as they were doing it, I could clearly see them reaching back with the other hand, up into their sweater where, when they bent over it, looked like they may have been wearing a backpack or something underneath it.

I analyzed the situation in my brain. Two circumstances, either the bastard would pull out a fake and try to punk us or they were serious as hell and one of us was going to drop like a fly in a lantern.

_Honestly... I just don't give enough of a fuck to truly figure this out._

I tucked my gun into my back pocket and turned around heading for the car again. I snapped my fingers at Hiruzen and Kagami who were both closer to it than Orange Sweater.

"Take cover." I told them calmly.

Danzo turned around, giving me an enraged look.

"Where the hell are you going, you traitor!?" He exclaimed.

"I'm not in the mood to die today." I said dully, pointing.

He turned back around, shocked to see Orange Sweater holding up a gun at him, like I'd expected. And then, like Hiruzen expected, and quicker than a mob, more orange sweaters surfaced, crowding around the first one like a huddle. They all slowly, one by one, took out their guns.

"Do you think they're for real?" Kagami asked.

"Danzo will be the first one to find out." I replied.

Kagami shook his head.

"We gotta get out of here."

The only way that was possible was to make a distraction and also discover if they were really packing heat or not. I looked up over their heads at the expensive looking, three story, bungalow they were steady trying to break into. I aimed my gun at one of top windows, right above where they were standing, and shot at it.

Kagami's hands flew to his ears.

"Ah! Are you trying to blow my fucking eardrums out?!"

The glass fell onto them, shattering, giving Danzo enough time to hightail his ass out of there and messily skid over the hood of the car and down to where I was. But when it was all over that was when one of them pointed at us and shot.

"Fuck!" Hiruzen exclaimed. "Fuck! They really have ammo, man!"

And that wasn't all, once the first one went on with it the others pulled out guns and pointed them at us, too.

"They're walking toward us!" Danzo exclaimed, pointing.

And just by looking at his face I could tell he didn't have any ideas. And it pissed me the fuck off.

_Not so easy being the leader now, is it?_

"We're gonna fucking die. We're all gonna fucking die..." Danzo whispered to himself.

"Well, don't panic." Hiruzen said, grabbing his arm. "Who called the police? Kagami?"

"I didn't know you guys wanted me to do it right now!" Kagami said.

"Fuck, Kagami!" Danzo exclaimed, slapping him in the back of the head. "What the hell are we going to do?!"

Slowly, everyone's eyes turned to me. It was then that I realized what it was. I mean, I always knew what it was. It was always perfectly clear to me. But it was like it was splashed in my face, thrown, really. Danzo was such a cowardly fuck, he'd never fit to be a leader unless he was off the battlefield, in a room full of KGB where he could be protected and waited on hand and foot. And he was also a selfish piece of shit. When I started this, I told them all...

"We have to make the world better."

I honestly said that.

"Not just for us, but for our little siblings and kids and... Forever onwards. If we can crush the evil, grind it out of the world to the point that everyone sees each other as equals. That's freedom, guys. That's...life."

And they all nodded. And then we started, catching criminals, threatening them to act right, squaring up, peeling out, lying to our families, staying out late. But being heroes to ourselves. Being righteous to our cause. Which had meaning. Which had purpose.

Bullets shattered the windows over our head.

_But this... What Danzo has created... It has no meaning. _

I leaned up on my haunches trying to see through the window as best as I could and not get my head blown off.

_And it's not what I meant at all._

And as I watched, I noticed something. A key thing.

_And it's not who I am._

"Someone's going to have to be bait while everyone else books it. Worse comes to worse, those people will call the police and hopefully they can get here before too much blood is lost." I said.

There was silence. Kagami stared at me dumbfound.

"...So who's gonna do it?" He asked, as if there was no way in hell it'd be him.

Danzo was completely silent. He didn't say a damn thing. Didn't even open his mouth.

Hiruzen sighed.

"...I guess I'll do it."

Everyone's eyebrows raised at him.

"Danzo and Madara have to be alright to make up the plans. And Kagami's better at-"

"Better at what?" Kagami interrupted. "Cracking jokes? Dude, if anyone's the weakest link, it's me."

"But I can..." Hiruzen's words trailed off to me.

I looked at Danzo again. Where his hands were balled into fists and shaking. Slowly, his eyes rose to mine.

_I'm not really sure who I am... But I know who I'm not... And that's a coward. That's a bloody filthy low-down rotten piece of shit coward like that idiot shaking and his shitting his fucking pants right now. _

"Look." I said turning around. "You both are only good for sidekick shit and you suckass yourselves so just shut the hell up and get out of here like good little lackeys."

Strangely, Hiruzen grinned and Kagami all but launched himself onto me and hugged me.

"You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you cuss me out!" Kagami exclaimed. "He's back!"

I shrugged out of his grip.

"I'm going in. And don't even bother calling the cops, I won't have a scratch on me." I told them, getting to my feet.

_So this is it._

"Run as fast as you can toward the car across the street." I told them. "Duck and hide there."

And that was when Kagami said "Go, go, go!" and Hiruzen said "You can't be serious, Madara! Come back!" but Danzo didn't say anything.

No one needed to tell him twice, his ass was basically already behind the car. I ran the opposite direction from them, toward their guns. I could already see what types they were from where I was standing. One was a six-shooter, the other was a pistol, and the one that was shooting had a magnum, like ours.

They were paying attention to the others running across the street, not realizing I was coming up on the other side of them. And by the time the only one I was heading for, the original Orange Sweater, who'd been smart enough to hide the gun in their back waistband, turned around and saw me, I had already grabbed their arm and hiked it up behind their back and used my other arm to wrap it around their neck. They pulled the trigger and the gun shot out to the right of me. The other two, unsure about what to do, just watched me as I edged toward them, using the original as a barrier. Like idiots. One of them threw their gun at me, I pushed the hostage I had into the way of it so that they were hit in the face.

"Ahhh!"

The other one ran for me and I threw the original orange sweater at him, freeing my hands to grab the collar of the one that threw the gun at me, knee them in the stomach, trip them over my foot and promptly step between their legs to hold them still.

"AHH! Shit! My fuckin' balls!" He cried out.

The one that ran for me, after getting up from falling all over original orange sweater dove at me and I promptly punched him in the face and while he reached up, grabbing his nose, I turned him around and used him as a human shield against the original, who held their loaded gun out at me.

"I wanna have kids, dude! Please!" The guy beneath me shouted.

"The other two guns are fakes, right?" I asked, edging toward them.

I stared into the black face mask, trying to discern the eyes beneath them. I slowly let up off the guy underneath me.

"Your gun is the only one with bullets. Your six shooter. And that tells me something." I told him, struggling to keep the one in my grip still. "That you probably really, really believe in whatever you're trying to do."

_But this person isn't anywhere near as strong as I thought they would be. Neither of them are._

Blood oozed out of the face mask of the one I was holding, I might've actually broken that nose. I edged closer, watching as they seemed to gaze at me. Gun slightly lowering.

"But running around shooting in the air and having backup with fake guns doesn't represent your cause." I went on. "It just makes you look like a stupid child."

They gripped their gun harder.

"You aren't shit unless you 'practice what you preach'." I told them.

Strangely, they softened again. I didn't hesitate. I took that moment to rush them, grab their gun, and bash it across their face. Only a second passed before original Orange Sweater dropped to his knees and fell, passed out.

I tripped the one in my hand, pushing him to the ground and picked up the gun the original was holding.

"Stay down." I said, pointing at the other two. "Move an inch and I swear I'll cut you the fuck in half."

"Calm down, man... Just calm down." Said the one who almost got his balls squashed.

"I'm calm." I said, walking toward him. "Completely calm."

"Whoa... Wait... What are you-"

I patted him down, sticking my fingers in his pockets to find a wallet.

"Only twenty dollars? What is it with broke people today?" I asked, dropping the wallet on his face.

"You're telling me..." He muttered.

"Alright, roll over. Face on the ground." I said.

They both obeyed. I leaned over the one with the broken nose and pulled on their face mask, but as I did, I realized it was less like a mask and more like a tight, form-fitting shirt that extended into a mask. Impossible to pull off unless I took his whole shirt off.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Hmm."

_These guys might actually be smarter than I gave them credit for._

"Count to 500. Move and you won't have to worry about passing on kids, you damn criminals."

"You're one to talk! You just robbed me!"

"Shut your damn mouth." I said, turning around.

"One...two...three..." I heard them mumbling.

I turned and took my time walking across the street, past the large houses with gigantic porches and lawns and mailboxes and backyards and past the sirens that inevitably arrived, though the Orange Sweaters were probably long gone, and past the train tracks and it wasn't until I entered the parking lot of the Kroger's, the same one we kicked that rapist's ass in, that I found them all waiting for me.

"He wasn't shitting us... He really doesn't have a scratch on him." Kagami said in awe.

"Did the cops get them?" Hiruzen asked.

"Probably not." I replied. "But it doesn't matter. If they're smart, they'll never try to mess with you guys again."

Hiruzen and Kagami nodded in agreement but Danzo looked up at me suspiciously. His eyes narrowed.

"You guys?" he repeated. "Don't you mean 'us'?"

"No." I said, taking a step back. "I mean _you_."

Everyone was silent. And it was obvious why. They all had looked at me like I was the leader again when I decided to protect them. But that didn't mean I wanted to reprise the role. I was so sick of my life.

_I'm a coward... And a liar... And Hashirama... You probably hate me, don't you?_

"We're all imperfect. We all have flaws. None of us are Gods..." I said, turning around. "So, it's time we just accepted that and just...move on."

It was silent for a beat. With everyone most likely trying to process my cryptic wording.

_But they won't get it. They can't. Because living life and being free is 'our' motto. Not theirs._

"Madara!" Danzo yelled. "If you leave, I'm telling everyone what we saw!"

I paused.

"You'll be a freak!" he reminded me. "And you'll never get an A, or a job...or even a _house _for as long as you live!"

He pointed at me.

"You're really going to throw your life away for that faggot?"

My skin bristled.

_I really hate that word... But coming from his mouth makes me realize I hate him more... So much, much murderously more..._

"That life that you're talking about..." I said. "Was never mine. I was always living a lie. Up until, I met him."

They all stared at me. I shook my head.

"But people who can't even understand why we created this union, why we decided to fight this fight, why we decided to pick up these guns... You guys clearly wouldn't ever understand something like love." I told them.

"Love?" Hiruzen asked me.

_Love... I..._

I turned around, sliding my hands into my pockets as I did and continued walking.

_I...love him._

But I didn't need to say that. The pacing of my walking said it. The position of my hands set in my pockets. The slight bow of my head. My eyes grazing the concrete underneath my feet. My ears ignoring the rest of Danzo's shouting and threats and Kagami's confused exclamations and Hiruzen's pleads. Body language. It's the mirror into the mind. And my mind was screaming...

_I'm done playing God... For Good. _

Up Next: I wish I could tell you it doesn't get any heavier... It does. Much, much heavier. Starting off with Hashirama finding himself with his back against the wall. Literally. His Step-Mother Hisa becoming the most unsupportive parent since Madara's Mother (and that's saying something) and Madara having his own little encounter with Hisa as well, after becoming a nothing but a severely depressed jack-off and literally jacking-off. Hahaha. You don't wanna miss it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hashirama**

**Talking Doesn't Work Here**

"Just my freaking luck..." I whispered under my breath.

I wrapped around the corner of the library, jumping over pets and running around people and dodging other hazards. I honestly shouldn't have been surprised. For the past two days, I had been walking home instead of riding the bus, cutting through backyard and creeks and even in one circumstance, hiding in the bed of a truck. And in every case, I just barely made it away from these three idiots alive. The same freaking guys, too. It was like they were my own personal grim reapers or something.

I looked over my shoulder at the three figures rushing at me, not too far behind at all, and cut behind the building, deciding to make my escape down the backsteps. But let's just pause for a second. Pause, with me running as fast as I can toward the steps, which are pretty slick because it just rained, toward a back alley where virtually no one passed through, and just remember what I said before... That stairs are my natural enemy.

Yeah, it was a total black saber. I honestly thought I heard animals crying for me. But that might've been because I hit my head really hard on the last step and my ears were ringing... Ringing... Ringing... Like when I called Madara's house. Strangely, it reminded me of the fact that Madara hadn't been in school for days and no one knew where the hell he disappeared off to. A good amount of me worried he'd asked to be transferred to another school. Even though I tried to ignore him as best as I could to give him the space I knew he deserved, I still really enjoyed his presence. It really, really bothered me to think I'd never be able to see him regularly again. But I couldn't understand why it should? After everything that had happened...

I blinked up at the sky. A cool chill blew by, shaking the tree next to me and making the leaves spin down toward me. I suddenly felt peaceful. Like I'd be content lying there forever. Then again, it could've just been my sore back and ass making me not want to move. And anyway, I didn't have a choice. Three pairs of hockey masks suddenly blocked my view.

"Got him!"" The one with the green zip up jacket said as he leaned down over me, pressing my arms to the ground.

The one wearing the t-shirt laughed.

"I honestly thought we were never gonna get him, man. Guy's like a fuckin' squirrel."

The one in the middle, with the green hoodie, snapped his fingers at them.

"Shut your mouths."

I don't know what it was. Something about his mannerisms. But I felt like he was incredibly familiar. He slowly bent over me. I winced, preparing for punch but it wasn't delivered. Instead, he reached into his back pocket quickly and the next thing I knew, something cold and metallic was pressed against my cheek.

"This is gonna be my pleasure." He said.

"Hey, that's not orders." Said the one holding my arms down. "Stay on track, we're supposed to-"

"Fuck orders!" he said, raising the gun into the air and pulling the trigger.

If you've ever heard a gunshot go off that close to you, it's not pretty. Honestly, I'd have shat myself right there if I hadn't been too busy hiding in the bathroom during lunch period to eat.

"Veg out, dude!" the one in the green t-shirt yelled. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Y-Yeah, man... Come on listen to him. Just calm down..." I stammered, not able to take my eyes off the barrel of the gun.

"Shut the FUCK up!" He screamed at me.

I moved my head to the right, pretending to be eagerly struggling to get the gun out of my face while simultaneously measuring the strength of the one above me.

"You're going to get us all-" The green jacket tried again.

"I don't give a shit!" he shouted at him, looking away from me. "They're not my fucking orders! I have my own reasons!"

Before the green jacket could protest, I pulled my arms up, grabbing the underside of green jacket's mask and dislodging it. I could see a flourish of chocolate brown hair but I couldn't concentrate because I was too busy rolling up onto my palms and using my feet to kick the one with the gun away from me.

He stumbled away from me, almost falling over the untied shoe laces of his high top baby blue converse sneakers. I darted at him, cocking my fist back to punch him in the face. Just for reassurance purposes, really. He was the only one with the gun. But as he straightened himself up, I realized it. Almost like a stroke of lightning.

I froze, standing up straighter.

"Wait... I... I think I know you."

I reached out, grabbing his mask but before I could lift it off, the one behind me grabbed my arms and he backed away.

"You think, faggot?" He spat.

And then it was certain. It was like a record playing over again in my head. That word. That voice. I knew exactly who he was. And then I realized how bad the situation was for me... Because I could never hurt him.

"Listen up, you fucking fag." He said, shoving the gun onto my forehead. "There's a million other people in the world, so why'd you have to go fuck with him, huh?"

I stared him down and said nothing. I didn't really think I could say anything. His voice became tearful. Heart-wrenchingly so. And it reminded me so much of Itama.

"Why couldn't you just leave him alone?" He asked again.

The boy with the green t-shirt behind him scratched his hair awkwardly and turned around as his voice shook over into sobs.

"Why'd you have to turn him into a faggot like you?!" He yelled.

"I didn't turn him into anything." I told him.

He pressed the gun against my head harder.

"Just shut up and listen me, okay?" He ordered. "I won't blow your friggin' brains out through the back of your head if you do what I say."

I watched him, curious about what kind of ultimatum he could possibly be interested in giving me.

"I want you to call him and tell him you hate him and you never want to see him again." He told me. "And I want that to be the last time you ever call him or talk about him or even _look_ at him ever again for as long as you live."

The breeze blew by again. He lowered the gun from my face. I whipped my hair out of my eyes.

"I'm...sorry." I finally said. "I didn't mean to mess up your life or anything."

I smiled sheepishly.

"I honestly didn't realize how many people it would affect when I made the decision I did..."

He stared at me. They all did. Not because they cared about what I was saying. They were all probably waiting for me to agree to his ultimatum.

"I hope you can forgive me but..." I looked down. "I... I can't agree to that."

"Why not?!" He yelled. "Why?!"

I looked at him fully.

"Because... If you want me to call him and tell him that then it must mean there's a possibility that he wants to see me again, right?"

Even though he was wearing a mask, I could almost sense his eyebrows jumping up into his hair.

"Because if he didn't, I wouldn't need to tell him that. It wouldn't even matter." I explained.

All he really did was tell me Madara might actually... Actually have wanted me back. But still, somehow, that felt like a fat chance.

"It's all your fault!" he shouted at me, raising the gun again. "He used to be normal before you...you..."

His voice shook, he sounded like he was sobbing again.

"You don't want to kill me." I said to him. "I know you don't want to hurt anyone. You're a good kid. And... You really, really care about Madara, don't you?"

He paused gazing at me.

"You're probably just...hurt and confused because you think this... What happened between us. Is going to make Madara a target. Make people hate him. Maybe even make people try to kill him." I went on. "But threatening me isn't going to help him either."

I nodded at the kid in the green t-shirt next to him.

"You should question the people that sent you here. Who's more likely to hurt Madara? Me...or them?"

He slowly looked at them both.

"The guy's bullshitting, man! We_ all_ care about Madara. Care about him enough not to turn him into a perverted weirdo!" the one in the green shirt said.

"If you really cared about him, you'd realize that it's best to let go of him." Said the one holding my arms back. "Forever."

I shook my head.

"I can't do that." I repeated.

The one with the gun looked at me for a long time and then said.

"We're peeling out."

The other two stared at him, seemingly in awe but he balled his fists and turned to me.

"But first..."

And then, before I could move or say anything he punched me really hard in the gut. I tried to pull my arms away but, with faster reflexes than I could've predicted, the one behind me got me in a headlock as the one with the gun cocked his fist back and punched me in the gut again. My knees buckled. I gasped for air, feeling like I was literally going to suffocate. He really had an arm on him.

"Come on." He said, snapping his fingers at the other two. "Help me kick his ass."

The one holding my arms back shoved me to the ground and then they all pounced on me, kicking me in the stomach and the back and periodically, the face. I literally could do nothing but curl up into a ball and wonder how it happened. I mean, I seriously thought I won. I had a better speech than the other guy, didn't I? I guess in real life, words can't save you from an ass kicking...

"You wanna be a girl? Why don't you _look _like one then?" The green hoodie asked as he pulled something out of his pocket.

They held me down as they scribbled with it across my face. And during all that, with their masks looming over me, I was revisited with that thought again. What if my hunch was right? And Madara really was interested in me still? I couldn't deny that the thought made me happy... Unbelievably happy, even while I was getting my head bashed into the sidewalk by someone who was undoubtedly at least four years younger than me.

When they were finished jumping on me. The ring leader pointed at something I couldn't see and the one with a t-shirt on snickered and they all dragged me toward the opposite side of the alley. Then, while I lay there, they picked up one of the garbage cans and turned it over on me, spilling gallons of awful, putrid smelling crap all over me.

I rose my head, moving a carton of rotten milk out of my hair and smirked.

"Garbage?" I asked mockingly. "And I thought you guys had more in you."

The one with the gun turned around and lunged at me, delivering a kick straight into my balls. Hell, the kick went through my freaking balls. I rolled over, deciding it'd be best not to talk for the rest of my life as the one with a t-shirt on grabbed my hair.

"Remember how that feels the next time you wanna get a hard-on around a guy, you pervert."

They ran away then, probably pretty certain I was going to be down for a while, which I was. It felt like hours passed before I felt like I could get to my feet. And the walk home... Don't even get me started. Those punches and kicks hurt pretty bad when they were given, but the aftertaste was much, much worse. Every step felt like my body was falling apart.

But I wasn't too far away from home. I was still in walking distance. And fifteen minutes later, I was able to push open the front door of my house where... Just because of my terrible, luck, Itama and Tobirama were in the front room, probably just about to be driven to little league practice by Hisa and, not surprisingly, Mito was sitting on the couch, watching television. Unsurprisingly because even though I'd only re-met Mito earlier that week, she had shown up on my doorstep and came in every day. Most of the time, she came in with my Stepmother's permission and not mine, seeing as how I was too busy trying to escape death to be home on time.

"Mom, did you remember to buy juice for the team?" Tobirama asked.

Hisa smacked her hand to her head.

"I thought you said that was Friday."

"Mom, I clearly said this morning-"

But as I stepped into the house all conversation ceased. Everyone just looked at me. I didn't know how I looked. But it must've been pretty bad. And they were all completely silent.

"My God, Hashirama! What happened to you?" Hisa exclaimed.

"Nothing just, these guys... They've just been..." I shook my head again, seriously unsure how to lie. "It's nothing."

"He's lying, Mom." Tobirama said.

Everyone's eyes turned to him. His fists balled and his bottom lip curled as he pointed at me.

"Hashirama's been acting like an idiot, so the whole freakin' town is against him now."

"What?!" Hisa exclaimed.

"And because of that, all my friends at school hate me and Izuna won't even look at me anymore."

Mito, who had been playing a clapping game with Itama, raised her eyebrows at me. I raised my hands up.

"...What are you talking about Tobi?"

He stared at me. I stared at him. Like I said, before Madara, Tobirama was the only other person in my life who could consistently see past my bullshit. See when I was lying. See when I was crying. See when I was in pain. And see what I wanted more than anything else in the world at a moment. Mostly, he used that to torture me. But when he saw I was really serious... Very rarely, he would...

"Hashirama will tell you when he wants to... I guess..." He muttered, turning around, picking up his little league bag and walking toward the backdoor.

It was silent. And then, slowly, Itama lifted his hand and pointed at me.

"...Mom, what does 'faggot' mean?"

And it wasn't until then that I glanced at the mirror on the wall near the front door and saw it there, written across my face in lipstick.

"Come on, Itama. Let's go get you in the car." Mito said quickly, pulling him onto her back and walking around the couch.

Hisa was the only one left in the room. She leaned back against the island. I looked at her. She breathed deeply.

"Okay... Don't worry. People are going to be idiots, alright? We'll get through this."

I stared at her.

"Hisa... What do you mean?"

"I mean,_ misunderstandings_ happen all the time." She said, giving me a serious look.

I lowered my head.

"Hisa, but I... I'm not sure if-"

"All we have to do is go to the school and tell that principal of yours to do his damn job and-"

"But Hisa, I-"

"And then find that Madara kid and tell him stay the fuck away from this house and never-"

"HISA!" I shouted.

She paused, biting her lip, averting her eyes from me, pacing. I knew she didn't want to hear what I was about to say. Hell, I didn't even want to hear it. But I couldn't keep lying to her. Not if she was going to put the blame on every single person except the one whose fault it really is...

"Hisa, it's not his fault!" I shouted at her. "He didn't even want to... I was the one who-"

She put her hands on my shoulders.

"Hashirama, no." she said. "You're just confused. I knew hanging around with that boy was going to be bad for you. There's just something off about him... I should've known-"

"I kissed him!" I said.

She shut up then. Just staring at me. My chest rose and fell with how heavily I was breathing. It was so much just to say that one sentence.

"I kissed him, Hisa... And..." I took another deep breath. "And I'd do it again."

She shook her head.

"Stop playing around, Hashirama. This isn't a game!"

"I'm not playing!" I yelled, then, trying to collect myself I lowered my voice. "Listen to me, Hisa. When I asked you about queers before it was because...I... I think, maybe, I might be a-"

But before I could get my last words out, she pulled her hand back whipping it firmly across my face. Of everything that happened that day, rolling down the concrete stairs, getting punched and kicked and stepped on and beaten and bruises and even getting my balls kicked in half... That slap. That one. It was the worst. I hadn't realized it until then but... I really trusted my stepmother. I trusted her enough to try and tell her something so embarrassing and she...she stomped on it.

She gripped my shoulders hard, shaking me slightly, and put her finger in my face as my cheek, which were previous red from the embarrassment of my confession, had begun to redden with stinging pain.

"Don't you _ever _say that again."

Her voice was threatening, in a way I'd never heard it before.

"Or you'll be sleeping on the_ fucking_ streets."

And even though she'd never cursed at me before or threatened me before or even hit or shaken before, that wasn't what surprised me. It was how quickly she pulled herself together, putting her hair back into place like nothing happened and straightened my shirt, where she'd wrinkled it, even though it was already stained with trash and probably some of my blood. And then, she glanced at her watch, eyebrows raising slightly.

"Tobi's going to be late. We'll talk about how to fix your little issue when I come back." She said, pulling her jacket off the table. "In the meantime, why don't you go find out what a girl feels like."

She walked toward the door, as usual, leaving the vital shinning piece of metal on the counter.

"Hisa..." I whispered, pulling the keys up.

She turned, managing to smile softly as she reached for them and took them.

"Thank You, honey." She told me. "Remember, I'm doing this because I love you."

I watched her turn and leave.

"I love you, too..."

I stood there for a while and then I walked around to the couch and plopped down in it, just staring at the television, which was still on, buzzing sounds and words and talking people. Things my brain couldn't process.

"Hashirama?"

I had completely forgotten Mito was still around. I turned, offering her my widest smile.

"Hey."

She slid down onto the couch next to me.

"Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, perfect." I told her, nodding along with my words.

"Well, you smell like rotten eggs, so I don't think it's completely perfect."

I laughed, getting up.

"I'll go fix that."

She grasped my hand.

"When you come back, we're gonna leave."

I raised my eyebrows.

"And go where?"

She shrugged.

"Just to hang out. Somehow, I feel like you need a break."

"A break sounds so rad right about now..." I agreed, smiling.

But as I walked, taking every step farther away from her and anyone else that could see me and toward the bathroom, my smile faded, my eyes lowered, my body felt heavy and pained again. I lifted my eyes to the person in the mirror. Looked at what was etched onto his forehead and pushed my finger against the mirror.

"You can't be like this." I said quietly. "You have to try to change..."

**Madara**

**Waking Up From The Dead**

I stared up at the ceiling strumming the cords on my guitar. A low, serene song sounded. I hummed along with it, not feeling the strength to actually sing.

"Madara!" a voice exclaimed.

I rolled over, watching the door swing open.

"Where the hell is your brother?" My mother asked me, holding a basket of laundry.

_Oh, surprise... She's actually cleaning for once._

"Hell if I know." I mumbled.

_But I do know... Right about now, he's probably been turned into a forced puppet by Danzo. Another person I threw under the bus to save my own ass..._

I turned on my guitar, returning to the beginning of the song I'd been playing. She walked over to me, dropping a stack of folded clothes directly on my face like that was the proper place for them.

"What are you doing!?" I exclaimed, shoving them away.

"Trying to snap you out of this ridiculous depressed slump you're suddenly in."

I rolled my eyes, picking my t-shirts and underwear off my guitar.

"No one's depressed."

She snapped her fingers in my face.

"Excuse me? Izuna's the most important person to you in the world and you just told me, you don't give a damn where he is."

"I said I didn't know." I corrected her.

"Yeah, with an 'I don't give a damn' attitude." She pointed out.

_I'm so not in the mood for this woman's mouth._

"What's your point, Mother?" I asked.

She crossed her arms.

"Everyone gets depressed, Madara. But the point is that you're supposed to get back up after you fall down."

"Yeah, because you're so knowledgeable about that..." I muttered.

She reached over, not even hesitating to slap me across my mouth. I didn't even react to it. She probably thought she hit me pretty hard but it wasn't like she was a man or anything.

_She's getting so damn happy slapping me lately. She's lucky I'm not my father..._

"I'm not taking any of your bullshit sarcastic smartass remarks tonight, Madara." She said, picking up the laundry basket. "Now, get the fuck out of this goddamn bed!"

"Leave me alone." I mumbled.

She rolled her eyes.

"Isn't boxing all about getting the shit knocked out of you but still getting back on your feet to win the match?" she called over her shoulder as she walked out. "Like that match you just barely won the other day."

My fingers stuttered on the guitar strings. My heart skipped a beat. I felt the sweat prickling on the back of my neck.

_...What? How... How would she know what happened at that match? _

I pushed the guitar to my right and sat up in bed. My bones cracked just as a reminder of how long I'd been lying down. I barely even got up to eat after I told off Danzo and the rest of them. And I'd been skipping school. I hadn't been within a mile of the place for days.

_Hashirama... Could you have been right?_

I couldn't bring myself to be there and see what was happening to him anymore. If I did, I'd be forced to fucking kill some damn body, no fake. I was sick and tired of living a lie. The only thing was... I wasn't sure if I could do that. If it was my place anymore. I doubted he even wanted my help.

I got to my feet and pulled a fresh towel off of the top of the stack and headed to the bathroom between my room and Izuna's room that we shared. Strangely, on the counter next to the sink, the hockey mask I normally wore to do stuff with the gang was lying there along with my Mother's vial of lipstick. I stared at it for a moment, trying to come to conclusions, reach answers to questions I hadn't even asked but my brain wouldn't allow me to do it.

_Shower first... Then deal with this fucked up kid._

The warm steam whooshed over me, relaxing my bones, cooling off my thoughts, creating comfortable ripples in my mind. I found the bar of soap on the ledge and mixed it in with my washcloth.

_Even though, I thought I'd never say this in my life... That woman might be right..._

My Mother. I wasn't stupid. I was noticing the changes in her but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of letting her know I noticed it. She didn't deserve a second chance. She didn't deserve forgiveness. Not for the years she abandoned me and Izuna and even Tsubasa.

I lathered the soap over myself until I was completely covered and then my thoughts started to take a different direction, as they had recently begun to do whenever I was in the shower.

I imagined being at the beach. I imagined being on top of that death trap train. I imagined walking through the cemetery, putting flowers on Tsubasa's grave. I imagined all of these things with Hashirama beside me, holding my hand, touching my body, kissing my lips... My fingers extended momentarily trying to grasp at those day dreams, everything I was imagining, they reached out and out but when they closed around nothing, they lowered... Lowered onto the only other thing that was also reaching out.

After that, which didn't really take too long at all considering I was doing nothing but sitting in bed thinking about him all day in the first place, I pulled a pair of underwear and an old pair of cotton black shorts on and continued drying my chest and hair as I left the bathroom and made my way down the stairs.

My Mother looked up only slightly interested as I walked into the living room, where for once she was cleaning the couch cushions instead of sitting on them, and nodded at me.

"Great... Now all I have to do is get you to take your ass back to school." She muttered. "Thought I didn't notice?"

"It was obvious that you noticed, Mother. You came in to complain to me about it only every hour."

She crossed her arms and looked at me for a moment.

"So, what's up with all this 'queer' business?" she asked me.

I raised my eyes to her. She sure didn't waste any time to shut me down.

"Don't give me that look. I know what's going on." She said. "You know if Izuna knows something, the whole world knows."

_...Izuna knows?_

She turned around, picking up a blanket out of the laundry basket and motioning to me to help her fold it.

"I don't know what it is about that boy that has you so..." she paused, shaking her head. "But if not having him around is going to lock you up in your room, crying over Stevie Wonder all day-"

"I never cry." I interjected. "And I was playing John Lennon."

"Whatever!" she said, exasperatedly. "It's obvious that you care about him, so when are you going to go run back over to his house and stop acting like a depressed housewife?"

I said nothing, folding the sheet with her and grabbing the next one. She continued giving me a knowing look. And after deciding it wouldn't matter if I told her anyway, I sighed.

"Everyone in school hates him. It could even be the whole city. He gets picked on and made fun of everyday and instead of being there for him, I... I left him to rot." I said to her. "I betrayed him... That's all."

"So you went turn-coat and sold the guy out, big deal. He probably would've done the same thing if it was the other way around."

I frowned.

"No, he wouldn't have. I know he wouldn't have. He would've stuck with me for as long as he lived, no matter what people said. He's just that kind of guy. And unlike me, he's actually a good person. Unlike me, he...he..." I shook my head, pausing.

"Does he love you?"

Her question threw me off. Strangely, I found I couldn't look up at her.

_I wasn't sure before if she really knew all the details... What people were saying about us. But this question..._

I just shrugged.

"If he loves you, it doesn't matter. He'll forgive you."

"I don't care if he forgives me or not. Either way, I just want him to know that I...that I..." I sighed, catching myself about to say something incredibly embarrassing. "Just that I'm sorry, I guess. I just want to tell him I'm sorry."

"Then what are you waiting for, Madara?" she asked, pulling the blanket from me. "Go apologize to him, make up, be happy and go the fuck back to school already."

I couldn't help but feel amused.

_Honestly, when people say I'm similar to my Mother, I want to wring their neck... But now, even though it's freaky creepy, I'm beginning to see it..._

I nodded, turning back toward the staircase.

"...Alright." I agreed.

As my feet padded along toward the stairs, a thought crossed my mind.

_I seriously told my Mother what was truly on my mind for the first time in my life, probably, and she actually gave me advice...?_

I glanced back at her folding the blankets.

_...And it actually might have been good advice?_

I cocked my head, interested in asking her a final question.

"Mother?"

"Hmm?" she asked, looking up.

"...What do you think my relationship is with Hashirama?" I asked her.

She stared at me for a moment and then shook her head, turning back to her sheets.

"Madara, let's just keep it on a don't ask, don't tell basis." She told me.

_Yup. That's my Mother..._

**Hashirama**

**Mito's Ideals**

"I got a full house." I said, putting all my cards out.

"Again!?" A boy with dark hair exclaimed.

"So unfair!" Another girl yelled, throwing her cards out.

"I knew this would happen." The last boy said. "We shouldn't let you play poker with us anymore, Hashirama. You're like a gambling God."

Mito laughed, putting her hands around all the chips and pulling them toward me.

"Five bucks each guys, come on." She said.

They all sighed but passed her the money she bet, which she appropriately passed to me. I grinned.

"Sorry." I said, shrugging sheepishly. "I was like born with a deck in my hand. There's no two ways about it."

They all shined me off, cracking jokes about how it was more like I was born with a cheat card than anything. I hadn't seen them in a pretty long time either. But back before the busing system, they were all I really had.

"Yo, pass the cigs this way, Homura." Mito said, tapping the table.

"Get yer own!" He told her.

"Quit being a turkey and hand them over." Koharu said, jumping on his back and successfully knocking the pack of cigs out of his hand which slid across the floor.

They touched Onoki's feet who picked them up, smirking.

"You know, I think we should quit smoking guys."

"Wet blanket alert!" Mito shouted. "Hurry cover your ears!"

Everyone quickly slapped their palms to their ears as Onoki went on.

"I'm serious guys, I think it's bad-"

"Lalalalalala!" The three of them hollered at him.

But they were all incredibly different from before. For one, Onoki loved smoking. There we even times he loved it more than Mito. And that was saying a lot. But at one point, his mother got hospitalized for some lung disease and he swore up and down, it was because of the cigs even though no one ever really said smoking was that bad. And all of their viewpoints changed a lot, too.

Before we ended up in Mito's house playing cards, we'd been walking around the busier part of town near the protestors and all the commotion just watching.

"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!" One side of the crowd yelled.

"PLEASE!" The other side cried.

"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!"

"PLEASE!"

Koharu began to lift her hands and hold them to the sides of her head but Homura pulled them down.

"It's good to hear it. Let it fill you up." He said.

"And pop you like a coke bottle." Mito added.

"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!"

And because of the image of the American Flag being draped over Tsubasa's coffin etched so thoroughly in my brain, all the chanting and ranting and raving I usually smiled at and felt the urge to cheer along with just made me feel sick.

"Hey, look, there's some losers like we used to be." Koharu said, pointing.

Sitting down on the curbside, there were a couple of teens who had grown their hair really long and wore extremely colorful garbs and moccasins.

"Blast from the past." I said.

They tried to pass out flowers and "peace and love" flyers to the protestors but the flyers were just tossed to the ground and the flowers were stepped on. Mito frowned, crossed her arms, and began to head over to them.

"Oh crap." Onoki said. "We're about to see the big baddie in action."

Koharu and Homura grinned in anticipation I couldn't understand and began to follow her. Not wanting to be left behind, I jogged along too.

"Morning, fellow souls." Said the boy.

"Would you like me to play you a song to move your day along?" The girl asked.

"Play a song?" Mito repeated. "How will that move my day?"

"By filling you with peace and harmony." The girl replied. "It will heal your soul."

Koharu laughed, they all did. I couldn't help but smile slightly. Did we all really used to look that stupid?

"Does that look peaceful over there?" she asked pointing to the marchers.

"PLEASE!" The protestors chanted on.

The state police were at bay, guns not pointed but in hand as a reminder not to let things get out of hand.

"That looks pretty edgy to me."

The boy shrugged.

"It's just worldly things." He said, then he lifted a rose to her. "If you want to experience real peace and love, you have to ignore it."

"Then why are you sitting right next to it?" She asked him.

We all laughed. It was a pretty hilarious contradiction when you thought about it.

He blinked at her.

"Because this is where all the people really in need of an escape are." He explained simply.

"I see." She said nodding. "So, if I take this flower and put it in my hair and run away from 'the man', I'll be happy, right?"

They both nodded and smiled.

"Totally."

I smiled back at them. I realized I admired their hope. It was warm. It was inspiring.

"Well, yeah, I might be all peace and love but what about these people here? Waiting for their kids to come home in one piece?"

Their smiles slipped, they stared at her.

"You know what? Fuck them, what about the actual soldiers, huh? They can't just sit on the battlefield and play flutes and ignore the fucking guns being shot at them from all over the place, can they?"

My smile faded, too. I watched, along with our friends and others who had begun to stare as her voice rose.

"And what about this whole fucked up world? No one else can just close their eyes and ears and crawl up into a little ball and hope it all disappears! You know why? Because everyone else has the fucking balls to try to change it. That's why!"

She squatted down in front of them and they leaned away from her, like they were afraid they would catch whatever disease she had that possessed her to start talking like that.

"That's why I couldn't stay like you people." She grumbled. "You're all selfish idiots."

"How can you say that?" The girl asked. "We're bringing hope-"

"To who?" Mito interjected.

They paused momentarily.

"SEND OUR BOYS HOME!"

"See, that's what I hate. I hate people who preach peace and don't even know the first thing about it." She said, staring them down. "For one, it's about empathy, understanding pain. Not ignoring it and running away."

She picked up their bowl of flowers and turned it over dumping it onto the concrete.

"The only people you're bringing hope to is yourselves." Mito said, then she smirked, very sourly. "I hope at least you're truly happy."

Then she stomped out their roses. The rest of the group unquestioningly followed suit, crunching them under their sneakers, causing red stains on the concrete that looked like blood streaks.

"Wake up from the illusion, you bastards." Koharu told them.

"Or else." Onoki added.

I found myself taking a step back from it, kind of cautiously. It was a weird moment for me. The moment I truly saw how drastically my old friends had changed. I mean, even to the point that they could stand up right against who they used to be and squash their old selves.

Mito turned, seeing I wasn't following and walked back to me.

"Did I go overboard?" She asked, smiling.

"I guess I'm just curious." I told her. "If you're not a hippie anymore. What do you do now?"

She shrugged.

"Shoot for peace a different way. Like holding who's actually responsible accountable."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Like 'the man'?" I asked, smirking. "Don't tell me! You've got the entire white house surrounded."

She laughed, too.

"Not yet, but maybe one day." She replied.

But back in the present, no one was thinking about what we did earlier that day anymore. Mito decided she wanted to throw a party. That wasn't too different from who I knew her as. She loved parties. And even though the day had passed with us walking around town and playing cards, the night was still incredibly young.

"Hey, macho man." Koharu said to me. "Why are you so spaced out?"

I grinned.

"Just thinking I should've made it Strip Poker instead." I replied.

Onoki and Homura's eyes rose interestedly as they glanced over at Koharu and Mito.

"We can still do that." Onoki said.

"Yeah, I mean, who says it's too late?" Homura asked.

But the girls ignored them, shaking their heads at me.

"Still the comedian, huh?" Koharu asked me. "Why don't you fix your face before cracking jokes?"

I'd managed to get a pretty bad shiner over my left eye. That kid could really punch. But it wasn't much of a surprise, noting his family.

"Speaking of that." Mito went on. "You never told us who did it."

"Yeah, do tell, so we can jump them tomorrow." Homura joked.

"I'm sitting out on that." Onoki mumbled, pointing at his nose which had been broken at some point. "This thing is gonna be swollen for weeks."

"More like the rest of your life." I told him.

"I bet it was Tobirama." Koharu joked. "He could honestly beat the crap out of you, you know."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, maybe in his dreams. All those times we wrestled as kids, I just let him win." Then I shrugged. "I don't really know who it was."

"How?" Mito questioned.

"They were wearing hockey masks." I said.

Mito raised her eyebrows and the others looked at her with wide eyes. I blinked at them.

"...Have you guys seen kids like that before?"

They all shook their heads.

"It sounds fishy, though." Mito said. "Anything else?"

"Well..."

Even though I might've know who one of them was... Forget lying, I was almost 100% certain who one of them was. But it was because of that, I couldn't out them. I shook my head.

"Nevermind."

Suddenly, the door bell rang.

"Whooo!" Mito shouted, fist pumping. "People are already here!"

Koharu wiped the cards off the table and jumped up.

"Wait! We haven't even gotten the place together yet!" She yelled.

"Alright, Onoki, you answer the door. Homura and Koharu are on quick cleaning duty. And Hashirama and I will cook up some funkadelic stuff in the kitchen."

I smiled at her.

"Funkadelic?"

She grabbed my hand.

"You're gonna be amazed, buddy." She told me.

**Madara**

**Adult Entertainment**

I needed to get to Hashirama as quickly as possible. I didn't know why, it might've been a sixth sense or something, but I had a really strong feeling that my window of opportunity was closing, fast. I went to his house first, but no one was there. So, not left with very many options, I looked for _her_.

_I'm lucky my older brothers were such perverts or else I never would've found this place._

"Is there a woman named Senju here?" I asked.

The bouncer at the door to the building glanced down from a very dirty magazine he was reading, stared at me for a moment, and then went back to reading.

_I'm honestly a peaceful person..._

I walked away from the front exit and around the side of the building which I'd already scoped out for backdoors and secret exits before even approaching him.

_But I really, really can't stand it when someone ignores me._

I picked up a wooden plank that I'd left there, just in case, and turned walking back up on the man. He glanced at me again as I returned and turned a page in his book, purposely trying to block any sight into the building with his big fat ass.

"Well, it's just that, she has a message for you. Can I whisper it to you?" I asked.

Suddenly, seeming interested, he closed his magazine and leaned down.

"Come a bit closer."

He leaned down further.

_Yeah, that's right, fatso._

His bald head lowered just below my eyes. I pulled the blank from behind my back and used the dull side to bash on the back of his head, right between the base of his skull and the top of his neck. He dropped to the ground wordlessly. I patted him down, finding what I hoped was the master key in his pocket along with his ID and then I dragged his big, fat ass across the front stoop and over around to the side of the building.

"I'm probably gonna need your vest, too, asshole."

He didn't move as I rolled him over, zipping his vest down and then zipping it onto my own body.

_I'm lucky there's not very many lights on this side of the street._

The only light around the building was a gigantic neon, blinking sign above it that said: "GET YOUR XXX HERE!"

As I rounded the corner, a couple of dark skinned guys had walked up, money in hand, and not seeing a bouncer they looked confused.

"Go right on in, it's free before midnight." I said, pointing inside.

They raised their eyebrows, judging my height, and probably questioning my reliability.

_These motherfuckers..._

"The gate keeper's my father." I lied easily, flashing the keys and his ID that I'd picked up.

After seeing it, they nodded.

"Oh, cool beans, bro." The black haired one said before fist pounding me.

The brown haired one grinned. "So does that mean you get to be here every night?"

_It wouldn't be smart to say yes to that... _

"No, this is my first night helping out." I told them.

I closed the door firmly behind them, discretely sliding the door closed and locking it.

"Do you guys come here often?" I asked as we walked through the front hall.

They grinned at me. And those grins said everything.

I rolled my eyes inwardly.

_The funny thing is that these idiots are clearly only seniors in high school, if that._

The lobby was full of people and all kinds of distractions, like dirty magazine booths, sex toy kiosks, food bars, where people all hot and sweaty from whatever they were doing in the strip club came to eat, and, of course, the entrance to the XXX rated theater.

"Check it, homie." The black haired one said, nudging his friend. "I told you they'd have empty private rooms if we came early."

_Empty private rooms?_

I raised my eyebrows to where they were pointing.

"I can't wait to get it on with China." He said, rubbing his hands together.

"That's one of the strippers, right?" I asked.

They nodded.

"There's four, right?" The black haired one asked.

"Naw, dog. There's like six now. Remember they just hired that sexy little Mercedes with the fat ass?" The brown haired one reminded him.

He snapped his fingers.

"You right! Yo! We gotta take that piece of ass back to the crib, my brother. You don't even know the fantasies I've been having-"

"What are all their names?" I interrupted.

_It's pitiful, really. Guys start going on about how sexy some whore is and they'll never stop. My older brothers were just like that... So annoying._

"Uh, I think it's... Mercedes, China, Panda Bear, Snow White, Tinkerbell, and Roxy." He said, naming them with ease.

The other one fist bumped him.

"My brotha stay on it!" He declared.

"Have you guys ever seen any of them up close?" I asked.

The brown haired one wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"You're probably asking what they look like, right? Well, like I was saying Mercedes, that chick has this ass, right? And it's like-"

"I'm not interested in them like that. I just need to know what they look like in the face."

They both gave me a funny look.

"You're not interested like that?" The black haired one asked. "Then how the hell _are_ you interested, cat?"

They both burst into laughter, hanging on each other to stop from collapsing on the floor from laughing.

"Sorry, man. I don't mess with no freaky shit. But thanks for letting us in though, 'Gatekeepers Son' or whatever."

They walked off then, heading straight for the strip club and laughing their asses off.

I wasn't even slightly phased.

_It's not like they're getting any either. Virgin assholes..._

But I had enough information to make a good guess. Two of them were new and from what Hashirama had told me, his mother was a recent victim of the sell-your-soul-for-money business. All I had to do was figure out who was the other newbie because I was sure as hell his mother didn't go by the name Mercedes. She didn't even have an ass...not that I was looking.

But I figured out quickly I didn't even have to ask anyone. Right in front of the strip club, there was a huge poster reading 'Mercedes and Snow White, Check Out Our Newest Exotic Dancers'.

_Exotic Dancers? That's what they're calling prostitutes these days?_

I pushed open the doors to the strip club which was filthy full with dozens of hot and sweaty men, sitting around the stage watching the closed curtains. It seemed like someone was about to come out.

"I've been waiting for this all day." One man said to his friend. "I'm gonna call her to a private room."

"That costs so much bread, though. And you haven't even seen her dance yet."

"Trust me. She's worth it."

He got up and started walking up next to the stage. I followed him, curious about what he was doing but then, the lights immediately cut off.

"Get you mind and most importantly your BODY ready for... SNOW WHITE!" The Announcer declared.

And then the curtains pulled back and someone began walking out but everyone stood up and I could barely see.

_Why the hell am I so damn short?_

I saw the man bending over what looked like a metal box near the stage and I ducked around the people watching as he wrote something on a note and tossed it inside. I picked up the box and smiled, finding the perfect ticket backstage.

_It's a call back note. This is probably how people end up with the dancers in those private rooms._

I picked up the box and weaved back through the crowd.

_All I have to do is pretend I'm taking these to dancers back stage._

But then, as I got through a gap in the crowd, I glanced on stage and saw the most disturbing thing I'd ever seen in my life.

"YESS! TAKE IT OFF!" The person next to me hollered.

"Holy Shit..." I found myself whispering.

It was Hashirama's Stepmother, alright. Standing there parading herself around like a friggin' prized cow. Her shirt, which was already skimpy enough, was falling to the ground and with only her bra up top she was working on sliding a pair of deep red, leather pants down.

_I've literally never felt closer to throwing up than today._

"Hey, man. Let me sign up." Someone said, grabbing my arm.

I turned as people crowded around me, tearing off sheets of paper and signing their names down.

"You sure Snow White has it like that?" Someone asked.

"Dude, please. I mean, if it's about popping a chubby, I could've done that damn self. But she takes you way farther."

"Really, how far?"

_I can't listen to this. I have to get out of here._

"One more and that's it." I told them all.

I could've started a friggin' riot. Everyone suddenly started jumping over everyone else, struggling to get the metal bin and pushing each other and fighting. It was actually turned out to be a good thing, it gave me the perfect opportunity to slip through small gaps in the crowd, run under people's legs and around fists.

_I guess being short has its advantages._

I finally got to the stage side where another gatekeeper opened the door for me, not even suspecting anything, partially because of the vest I stole but mostly because Hashirama's Stepmother A.K.A Snow White had just removed her bra.

The guy whistled as I walked past him, running back stage. It didn't take much more looking around to find the door to her dressing room. It said her name on it. SNOW WHITE. No surprise there. And the door was unlocked. Also no surprise. So I walked in, dumping the metal box of names on a couch next to a make-up dresser and sat on the only stool in the room.

_Now it's a waiting game._

And it wasn't too long of a wait considering the last time I saw her, she was only wearing heels and underwear. Less than ten minutes later, the door knob turned and she entered, carrying her clothes in one hand and completely nude.

My eyes shut automatically.

_Jesus, fuck! If I'm really going to turn queer, it's going to be all this woman's fault. _

"What the hell-" She began. "Why are you-" She paused again. "What's going on?!"

Someone walked by and she stiffened, closing the door behind her quickly. I opened my eyes but kept my head turned away.

"Just... Stop, okay? And put some clothes on. I can't talk to naked women seriously."

I could feel the tension in the room building as she rustled around, picking through things and sliding things onto her body.

"Fine." She finally said. "Now what the fuck do you want?"

I turned back to her feeling a sense of thick sarcasm to see her wearing a colorful Nursing Aid uniform.

"Where's Hashirama?" I asked.

"You came all the way here to ask me that?" she asked, leaning against the door.

Then she smirked.

"I guess you're really desperate, huh?"

_Save the bullshit, woman._

"Answer my question." I said.

"You must be fucking insane if you think I'm going to tell you where my son is." She said, opening the door. "Now get the fuck out."

I stayed seated.

"Move it, brat." She said, pointing. "I'm not telling you jack squat."

"Fine." I told her, standing up. "I'll just catch Tobirama or Itama when they're in school one day and explain to them that their mother gets home so late all the time because she's too busy doing smack and giving strangers a blow-job."

Her smug grin slipped. She gripped the door knob.

"You wouldn't..."

"I'm surprised you think I haven't already tried." I retorted.

She stared at me for a second, and then grabbing her jacket she pulled the door completely open.

"Come on." She said.

I followed her, not even slightly worried about my own well being as she walked around to the back exit and pulled the door open, offering a rush of cool, fresh air compared to the stench of booze, drugs and sex that filled that place.

"You're gonna get me fucking fired for this." She muttered.

"You're welcome." I replied.

We walked around the side of building and she raised her eyebrows as we came across the body of that bouncer I dropped. She looked at my vest and then shook her head.

"So you're a criminal, too?"

"Yup. Pull anything with me, and you'll wake up in the ER like he will." I told her.

"Very funny."

"I'm not joking."

She led me to this broken down, old as dirt station wagon that was parked across the street and I slid into the passengers seat. In the back, was a mountain of t-shirts, baseball magazines, toys, games, and other child-friendly bull crap that basically screamed 'Whoever Drives This Cars Has Way Too Many Children'.

She adjusted the rearview mirror, gave me a look of pure contempt, and then backed out. It was silent in the car for most of the ride until I touched the pocket of the vest, surprised to find a pack of cigs and a lighter in there. I cut the match, creating a blazing flame and met it to the end of a cig.

"And you smoke?!"

I took a puff and rolled the window down slightly to blow the air out.

"Isn't not like you're a stranger to drugs." I replied.

She paused momentarily.

"...How much has he told you?"

"I could write a biography."

She gripped the steering wheel.

"You have no right to judge me." She said between gritted teeth.

"I didn't say I did." I took another hit. "But you seem to think you have the right to judge _me_."

"Because you're a..." she paused. "You're trying to taint my son with your...demons."

"And being a prostitute is angelic?"

"I'm not a prostitute!" She shouted. "And even if I was, I'm a grown woman. And I'll do anything to make sure my kids have money for clothes and an education!"

I tapped the litter out of the car on the street and clapped.

"Amazing. So, no one else in the world has ever been in a money struggle? That's news to me." I said. "I bet they all turned to whoring themselves out on a stage, too. Barely seeing their kids. Never remembering their lunch money or their games. Spending more time away from their family instead of with them."

She stopped the car. We'd already arrived in the driveway.

"Maybe I'm crazy but that sounds a bit counter-productive."

She turned, glaring at me, but I was already stepping out of the car, squashing my cigarette in the dirt. She slammed the car door closed and we both walked up to the house, which was just as silent as it was when I came earlier that night.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He normally leaves a note." She said, putting a key in the lock. "I'll find out when we get in."

She pushed the door open and walked into the kitchen. I glanced left, noticing the light to the room he shared with his brother was on, and walked in that direction. There was a pile of really nasty smelling clothes in the middle of the room.

_Smells like...garbage?_

I knelt over them, only having to see the board shorts to know they were his and looked around for anything else. There were a couple of ice packs on the dresser, like someone had gotten bruised, and cotton balls with blood on them. Suddenly, a thought came to me.

_Did he get hurt?_

And then, I noticed something I hadn't seen in a long time. On his bed with the bright yellow, orange and green patterned sheets, under his pillow, there was a bit of red sticking out. I lifted his pillow to find what I thought it was. His classic red binder that he drew in. I flipped it open, widening my eyes at the drawings I hadn't seen before.

Footsteps sounded behind me as I turned the pages.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked.

"Where is he?" I repeated.

She sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

"I'll tell you... On one condition."

"Condition?" I asked.

She nodded slowly, never taking her eyes off me.

"Fine." I told her.

"He's at a girl's house. Mito Uzumaki." She told me.

_A girl's house? I guess my hunch was right... I really might not have much time._

But I continued looking in the binder.

"But my condition is, when you see him, this has to be the LAST time. And you should only go there to tell him goodbye and THAT'S IT!" She ordered. "I'm NOT going to let you ruin his chance at getting a girlfriend and finally discovering how worthless his time with you really was!"

_I'm really getting tired of this woman's mouth..._

"Not ONE other word, you hear me? Or I'll report you to the goddamn police for stalking my son."

"...Stalking him?" I asked her. "Do you really think that's what's happening?"

"What else could be happening?"

"First off." I said, finally turning to her. "I wasn't the one who pursued him. It all started out with his crush on me."

She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temples and it was clear she was trying desperately to squeeze out every word I just said.

"My son's a very impressionable boy, alright? He's innocent and pure. He was probably just confusing his pity over you probably because of your brother's death with some weird emotional attraction. It was a mistake and he's going to realize that tonight. So stay away from him."

"I thought the same thing at first." I told her. "That he just had a strange way of showing affection."

I walked toward her.

"But at the same time, with how often he was coming onto me, I started to feel attracted to him, too..." I confessed. "And once that happened, once I began to feel how I did... I knew he was serious."

"You're lying!" She shouted at me. "My son is a church going boy who would never do something as blasphemous as coming onto another boy!"

Her eyes held nothing but hatred for me.

"You're lucky you're not my son or I would strangle the queer out of you myself!" She declared, then she sighed, trying to pull herself together. "It's a shame, really... A shame that you're such a weak person, you can't even see when you're falling straight into hell."

_I can admit that... I might be weak._

There was nothing more to say. So I said nothing. But I lifted the red binder out of my hands and slid it into hers, pressing it against her palms.

_But when I'm with him... I feel strong._

"What is this?" She asked.

I pulled another cigarette out of my pocket and lit it, continuing to head out of the doorway without saying anything.

_That binder..._

I was right all along back then. He really had continued drawing me even after we talked at the little league tryouts. And ever since I'd blown him off at the boxing arena, the drawings only got heavier... And more detailed... And more intimate...

He'd drawn him kissing me on the cheek at the boxing arena. And me pinning him to my bed in my room. And him kissing me on the beach. And him pinning me to the floor in his living room. And even in the locker rooms.

And with all those drawings, he'd even gone as far as to shade in the blush of embarrassment on my cheeks or ears and his hands touching me in places they shouldn't have been.

But the last few pages didn't have drawings at all. They had words. And reading those words...

'_Madara, I love you, Madara, I love you, Madara, I love you, Madara...'_

And

'_I miss you so much, I miss you so much it hurts, I miss you so much it hurts like hell'_

And

'_If I could kiss you one more time... Just one LAST time I'd be able to stop for good. And then I could stop thinking about you all the time... I promise. Just one LAST time...'_

And...

'_I'm sorry, Madara... I'm sorry that I made you kiss me all those times. I shouldn't have but... I can't regret it. I want to do it again and again and again and again... And I'd have no problem getting beat up forever, for as long as I live, if I could just have you back... It's stupid but... I'm sorry.'_

And reading all that made me firmer in my decision to find him despite whatever whore's house his mother sent him to, I didn't give a damn. He had it all wrong. He didn't need to be sorry. It was all my fault. I was sorry. And I just needed to tell him that. I didn't care what happened afterwards as long as I told him that.

"...No...No...No..." I heard her whispering. "God...Why?"

"And by the way." I called before, slipping the next cig into my mouth. "I'm not going to keep to that condition."

I pushed the screen door opened and headed into the night, with nothing on my brain except getting to him as fast as possible.

Author's Note: Leave a review and tell me what your guess is on who beat up Hashirama! And did you guess that Hashirama's Stepmother had such an 'unholly' profession? And is Madara a badass or WHAT?!

Up Next: Will Madara make it to Hashirama in time to apologize? Will Hashirama succeed in 'changing' himself for the sake of his traditional mother? Or is this truly the end for the short-lived couple? This and much, much more will be answered next chapter. I don't like spoilers or anything, but I WILL tell you that SOMEBODY loses their virginity. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Hashirama**

**Being Normal **

I was hammered in like five seconds. There was no other way to go about it. When Mito said 'funkadelic', I thought, you know, a beer or two, maybe a bong, something normal, something human. But she had me on basically every different type of mix of liquor her and the rest of them could THINK of.

"I JUST WANNA ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIGHT!" A song blared. "AND PARTY EVERYDAY!"

But I had to admit that I was feeling pretty good. And the house was packed full of people just as hammered as I was within like another five seconds. It was like the whole damn town had heard about it. Which is why, I was wearing hat and sunglasses and stayed in the kitchen as much as possible. Mito stayed with me.

"I can understand if there are some people you don't want to run into, _really_, I get it."

But she didn't really get it. How could I explain to her that it was the whole damn TOWN I didn't want to run into.

"We could go for some more privacy if that'd make you feel better." She said.

I nodded and we walked by the table with all the booze on it and she snagged a liquor bottle on our way toward the stairs. Koharu whistled at us as we walked up the stairs and Homura and Onoki frowned.

"Come on, really?!" Onoki asked. "I've been trying to win her over for almost a year now!"

Homura shook his head.

"He wasn't even trying either."

Mito stuck her tongue out at them and grabbed my hand, pulling me further up the steps.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Like these stairs are going to kill me." I joked.

She laughed.

"I think the stairs should give you a break at this point." She said.

I smirked. She opened the door to the first room we walked past and pushed it open. I walked toward the mirror and pulled the sunglasses off my face.

"I look like I'm dying." I said, poking at my bruises.

"Leave it alone." She said, slapping my hand away.

Then, mischievous grin crossing her face, she grabbed my sunglasses and began examining them. My reaction time was way too slow to stop her. Everything was moving pretty slow, actually.

"So are you gonna tell me why you seem so protective over these sunglasses?"

"Protective?" I repeated. "I'm n-not..."

She gave me a serious look.

"I'm not an idiot, Hashi."

I blinked, oddly not remembering why I hadn't told her the truth before.

"Uhm... Madara gave them to me."

"That Madara kid again? Who is he?" She asked me.

"He's a new friend."

She gave me a wry look.

"You little booger." She said, shoving me playfully. "I thought you said you didn't have any new friends."

But my balance was so bad that I stumbled backwards more steps than I should've and collapsed onto the bed in the room, knocking the liquor bottle over on my shoes in the process.

"Sorry." I said sheepishly.

She set the sunglasses back on the dresser and walked over to me.

"So, is he the same guy that you think beat you up?" She asked me.

I shook my head back and forth hard. Too hard. Suddenly, everything was spinning.

"N-No." I told her. "It... It was probably his little brother."

She gave me a weird look.

"Huh?" She asked.

"His little brother's probably hates me. Like... Like everyone else."

She smiled, flopping down onto the bed next to me.

"Oh, Hashi... Not everyone hates you."

I turned my head on the silk, black and red sheets, and looked at her.

"Y-You're doing a good job at lying to me."

She grinned.

"I'm serious... For one, _I_ don't hate you." She said, tapping my nose. "Actually, I really, really like you."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'd like you better if you could tell me what those assholes that did this to you look like."

I blinked and answered unquestioningly.

"Green." I said to her. "They were all in...green."

I saw something pass over her eyes before she looked back up at the ceiling. I wasn't sure what it was but when she turned back to me, she was grinning again.

"...I always had a really bad crush on you, you know?" She confessed.

It felt random to me so I didn't know what to say. I mean, just imagine someone on the street walking up to you and saying that. I know it's out of context but still.

"Groovy." I replied.

She poked me playfully.

"I'm serious, Hashi." She said, rolling over so that she was closer to me. "Ever since we were little kids."

Watching her, I couldn't really find a reason to think she was lying. Why should she?

"Did you ever feel like that toward me?"

And that was a lot to handle. I immediately started struggling with how to answer. I knew what she wanted me to say, what my step mother wanted me to say, hell, what God in heaven probably wanted me to say... But it was so, so freaking different from what I really wanted to say.

She reached over, touching my face softly.

"Did you?" She repeated.

I found myself nodding and offering her a smile.

I was supposed to change, so I had to immerse myself in that change, and close my eyes and ears to any other thoughts or it'd never work. I...couldn't be what I wanted anymore.

She propped herself up on her forearm and then reached for me, turning my head at the perfect angle for her lips to meet mine. Which they did. I tried to lay there, raise my hands, stroke her hair, run my fingertips down to her waist, hold her against me. But every single second that passed felt...wrong.

"Why are you so stiff?" She asked, leaning up.

I just felt so damn awkward about the whole thing. All I could do was sit up and shrug.

"Am I doing something wrong?" She asked.

"No, it's just... I just feel kind of dizzy." I mumbled.

"Well, let's help you feel less dizzy."

Her hands slipped under my shirt. The shirt she picked out for me, a dark purple button down with green stripes. As she unbuttoned it and pulled it off me, her hands went for the bright yellow t-shirt I was wearing underneath with a dark green smiley face on it. When she pulled that off and over my head and my chest was bare, her lips went back for mine. And she grabbed my hands. I wasn't sure what she wanted me to do with them until she pulled my hands under her shirt and onto what was underneath.

A guy's wildest dream, really, having permission to touch a chick's boobs. For some guys, even a once in a lifetime opportunity. And as I kept my hands there, I tried to keep reminding myself that. Concentrating on the hardening of her nipples under my fingertips, and the hurried breath. Going over it again and again in my head. Telling myself that I had to let it happen. That I had to try. But even as her hands lowered to my dark green board shorts, zipping them down, I couldn't help but compare every single motion she made to the ones I'd already made earlier... With Madara. And once I thought about him for a second, I couldn't help but keep thinking about him. And my body begged for his hands and not hers. And I found my hands peeling back from her chest and...pulling away from her.

Her eyes rose to mine. I looked away.

"I just... I just don't really feel..."

But as I spoke, her hand was still where it was going, in my shorts, and as she felt what was there, or more specifically what wasn't, she gave me a look I couldn't decipher.

"Hashi... I thought you said you felt that way about me, too."

I scratched my hair, still unable to look her in the eyes.

"Wait a second..." she whispered. "Don't tell me that..."

I played with my fingers. My brain couldn't go over what she might be thinking. What she might be about to accuse me of. I felt a really strong urge to cover my ears but I sat there as she went on.

"I mean, when everyone all over town was saying it, I told them they were fucking insane. But..." She grabbed my chin, turning it toward her. "You're really a faggot, aren't you?"

I stared at her. She started at me.

And then suddenly, the door broke open. Startled, Mito jumped away from me. The person stumbled in and then looked around.

"Oh, shit... I thought this was... This isn't the bathroom?"

Of all people to walk in on one of the worst moments of my life, of course it would be _him_. Damn liar. He _knew_ this wasn't the bathroom. Mito and I both stared at our intruder and then looked at each other. Very quickly, Mito's eyes fell away from mine. She stood up. I stayed seated.

"I want you to _change_, Hashirama." She said to me, before walking past him and slamming the door closed behind her.

I lowered my head again. It was then that I understood the expression on her face from before. It was a look of pure disgust...

I was disgusting to her. I was a disgusting to everyone. What I wanted. What I thought. What I felt. It was all so unorthodox, I might as well have been spending my time fucking giraffes and penguins.

"...Are you okay?"

I looked up at him, standing there wearing a white golf polo with blue jeans and his classic bright blue Nike Blazers.

"Hashirama?"

And it was then, as I realized that deep inside, I was much happier to see him than I had been about anything else that day, that I understood. I was a queer. And I couldn't change. I'd never change. And because of that... I was going to suffer... And my family would suffer... And _he_ would suffer... Forever.

I gripped my hair. My memories started to force themselves back on me like I was having some kind of mental back-up. The looks and glares people gave me at school, the words on my locker, the 'suggestions' teachers gave to separate me from the rest of the class...

I squeezed my eyes shut. Gym teachers not allowing me in the locker room, F's on my homework for no reason at all, my stuff constantly getting stolen...

And I could've stopped all that. I could've if I'd just...with Mito... But instead... I was stuck. Stuck in a world where I could be jumped and beaten at a moment's notice and my brothers' would be in danger because of me and my stepmother could slap me and give me that look... That look they all give me.

But when I realized that I was stuck. And that it couldn't lie to myself anymore. I couldn't smile and grin and tell a joke and pretend it didn't bother me. I couldn't escape. There was...a sort of snap inside me. The breath I drew in was hoarse and shaky. And, as the everything hung over me only feeling heavier and heavier, my eyes ached and wetness collected there and spilled down my cheeks in waves...creating spots like raindrops on my board shorts.

"Hey... Hashi..."

"I really tried, Mada." I told him.

It wasn't until I spoke that I realized how I sounded.

"What the hell are you cryin' for?"

Normally, you'd expect someone crying rivers to sound all thick and blubbery but... I couldn't hear anything in my voice except hollow emptiness.

He stood over me and rose his hand, pulling my hair back off of my forehead.

"I... I couldn't do it." I said, finally looking up at him.

He looked down at me for a moment, just watching me, hand in my hair. And then he knelt on the bed next to me, leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, lips soaking in my tears.

"Mada, q-quit it... Y-You're gonna make everything worse-er..."

He nudged my head back.

"Are you drunk?" He asked me, grabbing my chin.

I pulled away from him.

"T-That's not the puh-point..."

He rolled his eyes.

"So the fact that there's enough alcohol in you to start a car has nothing to do with why you're crying?"

I lowered my head again. Another tear fell from my eyelash. I watched as it splashed on my shorts and tried to collected my words better.

"I tried to like her, I really did but..." I swallowed, looking back up at him. "Madara... Maybe there really _is _something wrong with me..."

I hadn't finished speaking for a second before he moved back against me, pressing his lips onto my mouth. I was startled but much, much too excited to stop him. Excited... Excited like the way Mito wanted. What she was looking for in my shorts and didn't find... Suddenly it was there. And with hardly any effort on Madara's part. There wasn't any way I could stop it.

"There's nothing wrong with you." He whispered.

I shuddered, feeling his breath against my ear. But it didn't change what I thought I knew. What I thought he wanted from me.

"...Then why did you leave me?" I asked him.

"I don't know..." He mumbled.

"You don't know?" I repeated.

He sighed, standing up.

"Yeah, okay? I... I was just being an idiot." He shook his head. "I thought if I left you alone and just went back with the guys, it'd turn everything back to the way it was before. No harm done."

No harm done? I guess he's never rolled down eight sets of stairs.

"But it was bogus. The whole time I was thinking that, I didn't realize it would only really protect me and not you. Actually... I didn't even think about you when I made that decision. And it ended up with you getting picked on and stuff... Just 'cause I was selfish."

It was a real triple decker head turner to see a guy like him admitting to being selfish. Honestly, I thought I drank myself all the way down to queer hell.

He slid his hands into his pockets and eyed the carpet.

"I came here to tell you that... I'm... I'm really, really sorry, Hashi." He said quietly. "I wanted to tell you that... And I wanted that to be it, but..."

His ears turned bright red, giving me a fond memory.

"But seeing that Mito chick all over you..." He hesitated. "It made me realize... I can't let that be the end of it. I want to see you again. Because I..."

The redness on his ears began to stretch toward his cheeks.

"I really, really like you."

By that point, I was like 'Yup, I definitely died and went to queer hell'. I mean, that's insane. There wasn't any way on Earth Madara Uchiha would ever admit that he had a thing for me.

It was silent for a beat. I stared at him, feeling the vibration from the blasting music below my feet.

But he was still looking at the floor, and his cheeks and ears were still red and he was still awkwardly standing there with his hands in his pockets. And it made me feel, deep inside me almost all the way to the pit of my being, that he was telling the truth.

"I forgive you." I said to him.

But there was no need to confab about that, I had forgiven him the moment that he'd done it. What I was really interested in was something deeper.

"But...are you sure?" I asked him.

I was hoping he clearly understood everything that he was agreeing to.

"...Are you sure you actually like me enough to handle all of this?" I asked.

He was silent for a moment. It seemed like he was trying to think of how to respond.

"It's...hell out there, Madara." I went on. "Hell outside of these doors if you really decide to do what you're thinking... Everyone... Everyone's going to think you're a freak."

He lifted his head.

"I don't care about any of that." He said.

I stared at him. He stared back at me.

"You don't understand Hashirama... I..." He rubbed his hands on his jeans. "I... I can't live without you."

He ran his hands through his hair then, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a pacing sort of way.

"Back then... When we were at the beach and...you kissed me..."

"You called me a queer." I said, nodding. "I remember."

"Yeah but...no. No, okay?"

He sighed, finally choosing to look at me directly.

"I just said that because... I don't know... I didn't really know how to react but..." His expression turned open and honest, like all the way back then. "I was really thinking that I... I never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again... Except you."

He hesitated again, seeming to try to pull strength to say the next thing. Admit whatever it was...

"I... I love you."

With that confession, I felt my own cheeks warming. And I also found myself wondering when I had that moment, that epiphany, that realization that... I really just wanted to be with Madara and no one else. On the inside, I started smiling...because, I never felt that moment. Since the second I met him, I'd known that, for me, there was just something about him... Something about him that I couldn't get enough of. Even before it was romantically affectionate, it was there. I'd _always _known I loved him...even _before_ I knew him.

He walked toward me and slowly extended his hand to me.

"If...you love me back, then let's ride this out...together."

His expression looked uncertain. Like he thought I could've easily have shined him off. If he was thinking that, he really was an idiot. Because... There was no way. My hand was reaching for his the moment he extended it.

When he grabbed it steadily, I put my arms around him hugging him, and he folded into my chest, curling up like an innocent, harmless kitten.

When I let him go, he grabbed my shirt and threw it over his shoulder.

"Wait." I said.

I walked over to the dresser, finding the sunglasses he gave me and enjoying the soft smile playing at his lips as I fitted them over my hair. But as I paused next to the dresser, a framed photograph caught my attention. I picked it up, raising it to Madara.

It was a picture of a red haired man with his hands on the shoulders of a little girl, clearly Mito. But the man.

"Is that Mr. Uzumaki like ten years ago?" Madara asked.

It sure was. All this time, her Dad was our freaking asshole Civics teacher. Something bugged me about that. But I didn't have time to think about what it was. All I could really think about was how that meant I'd just kissed Madara on our teacher's bed...

I looked up at Madara, it looked like he was thinking the same thing.

"Fate's a bitch." I said at the same time he said "Let's get the fuck out of here."

He opened the door.

The music was still playing and everything, some KISS song, and people were dancing and drinking but the moment our shoes hit the steps, the moment our essence filled the room, the moment their eyes reached ours. It was like a bomb went off.

Honestly, I don't think Hiroshima and Nagasaki could look much different.

It might've been the fact that my shirt was off, or our interlocked hands, or maybe something more subtle, like our eyes, our expressions, the looks we gave people daring them to walk up and say anything so we could promptly bash their faces into the wall that kept them at bay and just whispering and staring.

Whispering and staring used to bother me more than being beaten. But with Madara next to me... It was nothing more than side distraction. He was the main attraction.

Mito and Onoki and the rest stood near the door, their disgusted expressions might stay with me until the day I die but it didn't stop me from staring Mito down where she blocked the door until she moved to the side and let us leave. Even though earlier, when I had been crying I really wanted to apologize to her, I didn't even slightly feel that way then. The only thing I was even remotely sorry for was wasting her time. I wasn't really feeling much empathy or concern for anything. I could feel myself changing. My positions realigning. My thoughts transferring.

"Madara." I said.

He looked over at me as we walked, with our hands in each other. The wind blew across my face whipping any leftover tear residue.

"Remember when I said I can't 'practice what I preach'?"

He nodded.

"Everything's changing now... Everyone's becoming people like that. People that can't...stick to what they really want to believe in."

Like Mito and the rest.

"So, I'm going to be the positivity. The love everyone can find a home in. The sun everyone can look up to."

He gazed at me for a long moment and then shrugged.

"Alright. I'll join you."

I smiled.

"You do realize that means you're going to be a hippie, right?"

He shrugged again.

"Eh, with you homeless and me a social pariah, it's a wonder we aren't already hippies."

I blinked.

"Wait, homeless?" I asked him. "Since when am I-"

He shook his head.

"Don't ask. Just know that you're sleeping over my house."

"What happened?" I asked, eyebrows raising.

"You're just never going to be able to go home again."

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" I exclaimed as Madara laughed at me.

"Your binder happened." He replied.

I thought for a moment then shook my head, slowly raising my hand to scratch my hair sheepishly.

"Yeahhhh...everything makes sense now."

"I don't even know why you thought 'under your pillow' was a good hiding place."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know!?" I yelled as he laughed.

**Madara**

**And Later That Night...**

They snuck up on me. Probably because with his hand in mine and his head leaning on my shoulder the way it was, I was almost completely oblivious to the world around me. But when his hand tightened, I sensed his emotion and, like some weird soul connection or something, both of our heads turned around at the same time.

...And we came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

_Honestly, I'm so motherfucking tired of people pointing motherfucking weapons in my MOTHERFUCKING FACE!_

My hand twitched, I was reaching, about to snatch the gun away and kick the shit out whoever was holding it but two people jumped on me from the side, pulling me to the ground. Hashirama's shirts slipped from my fingers and fluttered to the dirt.

"Sit on him! Come on!" One of them shouted as my back slammed against the concrete.

The person holding the gun turned and pointed it at Hashirama. But what the hell was I saying person for, I knew exactly who it was.

"Fuck! Danzo!" I shouted.

"Miss us?" asked the one sitting on my chest.

He rose his hockey mask to show me his face but it was clear as day it was Kagami meaning the one holding my hands down was Hiruzen.

"How the FUCK could I miss you when it's been barely a FUCKING week!?"

"Dude, wash your mouth out." Kagami joked.

"Get the FUCK off me!"

"Don't worry, Madara. We're not here to make any trouble."

But my eyes weren't on jokester Kagami and oblivious Hiruzen. They were on Danzo, who had lifted his mask up and wasn't taking his eyes off Hashirama. I didn't like the look in his eyes.

"What's your damage?" Hashirama asked him.

"What's your damage?" He replied.

Hashirama shrugged.

"Well, I'm just trying to get home. But it seems like you have a problem with that."

Danzo glared at him.

"I'm just trying to get my team back together. But it seems like you have a problem with that."

Hashirama glanced at me.

_Shit... I still haven't told him. We have to get the upper hand in this situation fast..._

"If there's anything I have a problem with it's using kids to do your dirty work."

My ears perked at that.

_Kids?_

"I'm not blind. I can tell those two over there are the same ones from this morning that was with the kid."

Danzo stared at him for a moment and shrugged.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

Hashirama turned his eyes to Kagami and Hiruzen.

"I know you guys do." He said. "You remember what I said, don't you?"

Their eyes lifted from mine. They looked at Hashirama.

"Who's more likely to hurt him?"

While they were looking up, Hashirama's eyes briefly flicked down to mine and he gave me a meaningful look. I was almost just as distracted by what he was saying as they were, to the point I almost didn't notice a perfect opportunity to kick ass when I had one.

"HEY!" Danzo shouted, attracting their attention. "He's just trying to distract-"

But I'd already forced my hands out of Hiruzen's grip, whose strength mostly lay in his head and not his arms, grabbed him under the shoulders and pulled him over me, into Kagami who was sitting on my chest. The result was a substantial headache and as Hiruzen backed off of me, holding his head, I grabbed Kagami around the neck and leaned backwards, forcing him into a headlock.

"Touch me and he won't breathe again." I said, eyes dead set on Hiruzen's.

He paused, unsure, as Kagami flopped around, trying to get away from me.

"Think about it." Hashirama went on, looking at Hiruzen.

Hiruzen slowly turned his eyes to Danzo.

"...We didn't need to use Izuna, you know." He told him.

_Izuna?! What are they talking about...?_

"But you used him on purpose. You knew he was angry enough to really hurt someone... Did you plan it like this all along?"

"Shut up!" Danzo shouted. "Just do what I say I know what I'm doing!"

"I want to protect Izuna... And Madara, I'd never try to-"

"That's because you're a freaking faggot!" Danzo interrupted.

He finally lowered his gun, slipping it into his back pocket.

"And I don't need anything to deal with someone like you."

As he started for Hashirama, I could only really smile.

_No one really knows this except me and maybe his younger brother's but..._

Danzo grabbed his arms and I could already see the muscles in Hashirama's arms beginning to flex and pull up out of his grip.

_Hashirama's even stronger than I am. _

He pulled back from Danzo easily and then, as Danzo tried to grab his waist and tackle him to the ground, Hashirama dodged him and tripped him, side-stepping his fall to the ground.

"What happened to Izuna?" Hashirama asked, directing his attention to Hiruzen again.

I shoved Kagami, who still hadn't been able to get out of my hold, off me and got up as he responded.

"He was pissed after everything and... He ended up robbing a store. We didn't get into all that so we waited for him outside but they had a camera with him on footage."

"Where is my brother?" I asked, walking toward him.

Hiruzen put his hands up, backing away from me.

"He's fine. He's at home. He quit after Danzo came. He said he didn't want to do it anymore and because you peeled out too, he doesn't have to."

Hashirama cocked his head.

"But what about the cameras?"

"That's where I come in, asshole." Danzo said, getting to his feet.

We all turned to him, reluctantly for the most part.

_He's like a child we have to entertain..._

"I have the footage of your kid brother being an idiot." Danzo said. "And he should go to jail for what he did."

I walked toward him, really, really ready to finally just crack his goddamn head open.

"We're officers, Madara. Not freaking criminals." Danzo said. "So I should do the right thing."

"I'm done doing these fucking deals with you Danzo." I told him. "You can kiss my ass."

"I know_ you're_ done." Danzo said, then his eyes flicked toward Hashirama. "But you wouldn't want an innocent kid like that getting locked up just because his big brother's getting plowed by a faggot."

My reaction was immediate. I was really going to punch his lights out but very surprisingly...

Danzo's stumbled back, tripping over his brown and white checkered Vans and hitting his back on the cobbled sidewalk after Hashirama pretty much right jabbed the hell out of him.

Hashirama turned to me, rolling his eyes and shaking his fist out.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked me, picking his shirts up.

The smile that stretched across my face probably won't ever be able to be matched in life.

_This guy..._

"Hell yeah." I replied.

Kagami and Hiruzen made their way over to Danzo as we walked away.

"Shit!" Kagami said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a snicker. "Dude, you got fucked up!"

Danzo held his eye, which was probably going to turn into a pretty mean shiner later, and sat up.

"You have until one in the morning, you piece of shit!" He shouted. "One in the morning!"

_Yeah, whatever... Kiss my ass._

Hashirama was looking at me closely.

"Are you going?"

"Of course not." I replied. "Danzo's all talk. He knows full and well that if he outs Izuna, he'll be calling in a world of ass kicking I'll give him."

Hashirama nodded saying nothing.

"And anyway, weren't you just talking about being all positivity and shit?" I asked.

He grinned.

"That _was_ positivity. If I had let_ you_ get a hold of him, God knows what you would've done..."

-Thirty Minutes Later-

Hashirama was sitting on my bed next to me watching my guitar closely. My fingers went across the strings, playing a slow, serene sounding song after he practically begged me to remember my promise. My lips parted, I thought I'd feel embarrassed about singing in front of him but as I watched his eyes, I realized there was nothing I could really keep from him anymore.

[ Imagine there's no countries.

It's isn't hard to do.

Nothing to kill or die for. ]

Strangely, as I said that, I thought of Tsubasa. And the way Hashirama touched his sunglasses made me feel that he had to.

[ And no religions too. ]

Hashirama ran his hand through his hair.

[ Imagine all the people. ]

He sang, eyes slowly rising to mine.

[ Living life in peace. ]

[ You may say I'm a dreamer. ]

[ But I'm not the only one. ]

I watched the smile cut at his lips.

[ I hope someday you'll join us. ]

[ And the world will be as one. ]

He reached over sliding his hand into my hair and pulling himself closer to me.

"You sing like an angel."

"Where's the punchline?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"I could die listening to your voice."

I rolled my eyes.

"Each performance costs twenty bucks. I take cash and credit."

He laughed as I got up and walked near the door where I usually stashed my guitar. We were silent for a while. He got up and nudged a hockey mask on the floor with his foot.

"So, I'm still kind of confused, you created the whole Vigilante Misfit thing, right?" He asked me.

"Pretty much."

"So... What the hell is Danzo jiving about?" He asked, cracking my old toy box open.

"He thinks it's his now, because I basically stepped down."

I'd explained the entire thing to Hashirama while we walked home. From beginning to end. I was so tired to keeping things from him.

"So he's a power hungry kind of guy, huh?"

"He's an idiot." I corrected.

Hashirama laughed.

"Yeah, because power hungry would be too similar to you, right?"

I gave him a look.

"What the hell does _that _mean?" I asked him.

"That if you didn't pick me over them, you'd be the kind of guy that would want to have the world in their hands." He said, showing me his palm and then squashing it. "You're naturally like that."

_Yeah, right... If anything, that's my father..._

"And what about you?" I asked, walking up to him. "If you picked that Mito chick over me, you wouldn't be all positivity and shit now, would you?"

He cocked his head.

"Probably not. I'd probably be doing something similar to what you're doing. Throwing everyone and anyone under the bus for my own sense of justice and freedom." He poked me. "I guess that means we're really good for each other."

"Or that life style was what our destinies truly were and we're really _bad _for each other." I pointed out.

He looked at me for a second and then, very impulsively, stepped over and kissed me lightly on the lips. When he pulled back, it wasn't too far, just enough to whisper in my ear.

"There can't be anything bad about how this feels."

His hands came up and pulled my hair back off of my face. As my eyes lowered over his bare chest and his dark green shorts tied loosely and hanging just barely off of his hips, his ran down from my ear, inching along toward my lips.

"Let's do it." He whispered, breath raising almost every hair on my body.

_Good God..._

I found myself running on impulses, too. My hands rose, finding the loop in his shorts and pulling him to me. Then, with the front of his body pressed up against mine, my hands circled around to his back and lowered into his pants, grabbing handfuls of what was there.

_I want to go as far as there is to go with him._

My tongue was already sliding out of my mouth as he prepared to kiss me. And he opened his mouth slightly, eager to let me have what I wanted.

_I almost feel like I'll die if I don't._

We kissed with Hashirama's fingers periodically squeezing between us and touching all over the front of my jeans and my hands continuously taking the liberty of exploring his chest and squeezing his ass.

_There's no way I can hold back now..._

I pulled him back against me and walked him over to my bed where he collapsed onto it and I pressed him down in the sheets.

"Jesus, this is getting serious." He said with his classic smile.

I paused.

"We don't have to go too far." I told him

_Yes we do. And I'm not going to stop either._

He smiled mock innocently.

"Good because I'm just_ so_ scared." He joked, then he nudged me. "Stop acting like such a virgin."

_This motherfucker..._

My expression exploded into disbelief.

"You asshole, _you're_ a virgin!" I retorted.

"Yeah, but at least I don't act like one!"

_See, _this _is why I don't ask him things. _

I pushed him down further with deliberate force but my force turned tender as I continued kissing him in the bed. It wasn't long until I was almost shuddering with the feeling of his hands all over me. My tongue was eager, I tasted him over and over.

His hands which were playing at my jeans, slid upward to my chest and lifted my shirt off my head with ease. After he did, my fingers grazed his chest, going over every inch, every morsel of skin, every tender, pale portion there. From his neck, to his belt line. Oddly, he blushed slightly. I gave him a questioning look.

"Your hands are all over me." He said, laughing.

_Because touching you drives me crazy..._

I was surprised he hadn't commented on how hard I was probably feeling against him. Then again, he could've been twice as hard as I was and didn't notice.

"Just do whatever feels right." He clarified.

"A lot of things feel right!" I retorted.

"Dude, just pick one!"

I rolled my eyes and ducked my head, lowering my lips from his cheek to his neck and sucked there, creating little marks.

"Ahh... Oh wow..."

I lifted my head, smirking at him.

"You now have permission to make weird sounds in my bed."

He laughed.

"Your Mom still asking for the radio station?"

"Yes." I muttered.

"Stellar."

My lips continued traveling from his neck and when I found that softer area of skin, poking out and presenting itself, I couldn't help but part my lips over it and meet it with my tongue. His nipple promptly hardened and he shifted under me, taking in a big breath of air and sliding his hands up my back.

"Mmm..." he moaned.

_That must feel really right to him._

I let my lips travel down further in slow little paces all the way down to his belt line. Just as I was about to get his shorts off, he stopped me.

"Wait... You first."

I raised my eyebrows.

"...Why?" I asked, motioned to the obvious bump in his shorts. "You're clearly ready."

He grabbed my arms pulling me back up and over him.

"Because I can hold out longer than you." He said, grinning.

"What?!" I exclaimed.

"Dude, you're leaking right now." He grabbed my crotch, touching where it was damp on my jeans.

I blushed vibrantly.

"That's not even..."

But he ignored me and rolled over, pushing me down and I reluctantly let him get me into the position he was in and get over top of me. Strangely, as he did, he became more serious than he had been that entire moment.

"Just let me do everything from here on out."

_That's funny... Seeing as though he's taken a backseat in our relationship as of late._

He slid his fingers up my inner thighs and up to my zipper.

"You're the one with the 'control-freak' problem." I remarked.

He unbuttoned my jeans and zipped them down.

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you." He said, giving me a humorous look. "I_ could_ just let you suffer."

But he didn't. He took his time slowly pulling my jeans off and then lowered my underwear and I could literally feel every hair raising, every blood cell running, every beat of my heart as his lips inched closer to my incredibly hard and leaking chubby and finally made contact.

My hands flexed, I wasn't sure what to do with them, so I gripped the sheets and his spare hand, driving up the inner part of my thigh to help him keep balance, was driving me crazier than his tongue... His tongue... Going around and around it and then finally bearing down and sucking. I honestly would've came right then, literally only five seconds in, if I wasn't trying to hold out.

But my breathing rate was going crazy and the tremors going up and down my spine were constant. And then his eyes flicked up, and they were so deep and warm and brown and I couldn't help it...

_I'm so in love with him._

That time it was unstoppable.

_So ridiculously and stupidly fucking in love with him._

My lips parted, if anything came out, I couldn't tell. I wasn't really in charge of my vocals, or any other part of my body for that matter, so I wasn't able to stop it. But as Hashirama backed off, having caught most of what came out of me, he gave me a wide smile.

"I didn't know you were a screamer." He said.

I slowly brought my eyes down from where they were on the ceiling.

"It's not, like, bad or anything..." He told me. "It was actually...really cute."

_Cute?_

"Please..." I mumbled.

He laughed and then nudged me.

"It's my turn now but... I wanna do something different." He said.

I gave him a curious look as he got me to roll over and positioned his hands on my waist.

_I know what this is..._

"Wait... Is this the real reason why you let me go first?"

"Shhhh." He whispered. "Don't think too hard."

"You're such a friggin' jerk..." I muttered.

But I stopped complaining as he lowered my underwear in the back and went about taking his own shorts off. He leaned up on me and I felt his fingers pushing into my underwear. I didn't question him as he pressed his fingers inside, most likely as a widening technique, though I did mutter a few curse words.

_He's lucky I'm not that power-hungry person anymore..._

Even though I'd drop dead before being vulnerable in front of any person that way, literally bending over for them, I didn't blink twice before I did it for him.

_He's lucky I feel this way about him..._

And when his hips dug into me and he started thrusting into me, even though it felt uncomfortable and even tinging on painful at some points the fact that the hands on my waist were his and the hurried breath at my ear was his and the bare chest on my back was his filled my mind.

_He's so lucky..._

"Ahh... Mada... This feels great."

And even though it was clear as day to us and everyone in the whole damn world that we were into each other, that phrase still had me feeling hot in the face. His hands slid up my chest and his lips pressed against my upper neck. I put my hands over his, revealing in his moaning.

"Jesus Christ..." he whispered.

I kept my body steady bent over the bed as he held me against him more firmly and pushed into quicker.

_He's getting so excited._

I could feel when he was literally on the edge of it all. And it was almost like time stopped in that moment, in that moment when his lips nudged my ear and he whispered...

"Jesus, Madara... I'm so in love with you."

_Good God..._

I bit my lip and shut my eyes, then. Not even being able to stop myself slightly as I came again at the same time he did. He pulled himself back out of me and crawled onto the bed in front of me, collapsing into the sheets. Even though he didn't scream, he was still moaning stuff to himself. Mostly just "So Gnarly"es and "Fuck Yes"es. I crawled onto him and folded into his chest, completely content with the world as my cheek pressed against him.

Our breathing mixed together and he was completely still. I was almost certain he'd fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke up.

"Mada, I want to stay with you forever."

"That's a given." I said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"...You promise?"

I got up on my forearms, leaned over his face, and gazed at him, gazed at his warm, light brown skin tone and his brunette hair that he never combed but always fell perfectly over his dark brown eyes.

"With my life." I replied. "We'll stay together for all eternity...even after we die."

I watched him smile and slowly close his eyes and I lowered my lips, kissing him softly one last time.

_I swear on that, Hashi. No matter what, we'll stay together forever._

**Hashirama**

**It's My Duty**

I was woken by a soft sound. Something moving. My eyes snapped open to find a woman standing in the doorway of Madara's room.

It was clearly his Mother. With both of us completely bare except for our underwear and with him sleeping on my chest, there was honestly nothing I could say. I mean, even blind people would be able to tell we were queer.

I sat up, tensing for whatever she could say. Imagining a situation similar to Hisa but she just said...

"You better not hurt him."

My arms retracted protectively around him, almost like an instinct and I shook my head.

"I'll protect him with my life."

She stared at me for a second, eyes flicking down to her son's sleeping face. And I wondered then, what she was thinking. That she must have really fucked up to have a queer son? But her expression didn't seem to hold anything like that. It seemed almost relieved. Like maybe she believed me. She quickly turned around and closed the door.

"Hmm?" Madara mumbled sleepily, alerted by the door.

I ran my hand through his hair, stroking it.

"It's just me." I whispered.

He nodded and readjusted himself on me.

It was then that I wondered if perhaps Madara's mother was so desperate not to run him away that she was at a point that she would basically accept anything he did. And I also wondered if it was the same with Izuna.

I hugged Madara to my body again, strangely still urging for closeness, and just stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to his soft breathing. It was almost like an out of body experience or something. I was a freaking virgin like three hours earlier and suddenly, I wasn't. I reached down and grabbed his ass playfully.

"Mada, guess what?"

He moved his head.

"You're still a virgin."

"Shuddup." He mumbled.

I brushed his hair off of his face and lowered my lips to his forehead.

"Go back to sleep." I whispered to him.

He didn't respond, showing that he probably hadn't been fully awake to begin with. I shifted slightly, rolling him over softly so that I could sit up and get out of his bed. I stretched, making my way to his bathroom.

As I pulled my underwear down in the front and positioned myself in front of the toilet, my eyes locked on the vial of lipstick lying on the sink counter.

"That looks familiar..." I muttered.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Oh! Oh crap, I didn't know! Don't kill me!"

I stared at him. He stared at me. The tinkle ringing out in the toilet slowly came to a stop.

"I...thought you were my brother." Izuna said.

I laughed, pulling my underwear back up.

"He'd really go bananas like that over an accident?"

He gave me a stale look.

"You don't know my brother."

I smiled. That really tripped me out. I was probably the only person to see him naked since his freaking mother. And it wasn't like his package was anything to hide, the weirdo.

I pulled the chain to full the toilet and turned back toward the door.

"...Hey." Izuna spoke up. "Uh..."

I paused, looking over my shoulder. He seemed to be having difficulty with what he wanted to say. I smiled, flicking the lipstick vial.

"Don't worry. I'm not mad or anything." I told him.

He balled his fists.

"It's not that... I wouldn't care if you're mad at me or if you hate me, honestly, I wouldn't care but... Danzo." He looked up. "You were right. He's going to try to hurt him."

"You mean the whole stealing thing you pulled?"

"I didn't know he was going to use it against him! I was just mad... I did a lot of stupid stuff..."

I noticed that he had a bruise on his bottom lip, one that hadn't been present before, even though I didn't recall hurting him.

"Is that what happened to your face?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Me and Tobi into a fight at baseball..." He mumbled, shuffling his feet. "He figured I was the one who did all that stuff to you..."

Jesus, leave it to Tobirama to turn every good thing you were trying to do to shit. Izuna didn't look too bad though, meaning he held back at least a little bit. To be completely honest, even though they were both around the same height and weight I was pretty sure, in strength, Tobirama could wipe the floor with Izuna. Kind of the same way that if I were boxing champion, I'd probably be able to kick Madara's ass down the street and back, too.

"He says he hates me now and not just me, anybody with the last name Uchiha."

I smiled sheepishly.

"Eh... I'll talk to him-"

"No, listen." He said. "I don't care if he's mad. I don't care if anyone's mad, it's just..."

He slid his hands into the pockets of the pinstriped white and navy blue pants he wore and raised his hand to his bare chest, over his heart.

"I can't let Danzo hurt Madara because I was stupid." He told me.

His bottom lip trembled slightly.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I asked. "How could he hurt him?"

Izuna brought his arm up to wipe his eyes.

"Because he said he knows Madara won't do it. He says you made him soft. And he'll wait until the cops get me and then go crazy." Tears began sliding down his arm. "And when he does that, the cops will get him, too. That's all he wants."

I recalled Danzo yelling at me "by one in the morning!" And to the tune of Izuna's sobbing, I glanced in the bedroom at the bright red ticking clock above Madara's bed.

12:49

And like dominos, everything started to fall into plan for me.

"I don't want to go jail." Izuna whimpered.

I put my hand in his hair, smiling at him like I'd do to Itama.

"Cool it, you crybaby." I told him. "You're not going anywhere...except to bed. It's late."

I pushed him toward the other door, in the direction of his bedroom.

"I'll handle it." I told him.

He turned, giving me a weird look.

"You?" He asked. "But he hates you."

"Well, why didn't you tell Madara then?" I asked him.

He blinked and then cocked his head. The tears on his cheeks glistened as he turned his eyes to me.

"He..._told_ me to tell you."

"Exactly." I said, poking his forehead. "Something doesn't jive, does it?"

Izuna slowly shook his head, agreeing.

"It's obvious I'm the one he wants. So, I'll go."

"But if it's suspicious, then maybe we should wait." Izuna suggested.

"No, the only thing that's suspicious is why he's interested in me. The fact that he's trying to blackmail you is still in cold water." I explained to him. "So, the main reason I'm going is just to see if I can find a way to get him to leave you and Madara alone."

He used a nearby tissue to wipe his face completely dry.

"But how?"

"Uh... I'll figure it out when I get there." I said, shrugging. "Anyway, where the hell am I going anyway?"

"Danzo's house."

"Because I know the exact coordinates of where he lives..." I responded.

He gave me a funny look.

"You've been hanging around my brother too much."

I smiled, realizing that he was probably right and if I hadn't been consistently drowned in sarcasm every moment since I met Madara, I probably wouldn't have responded to him like that. I punched his shoulder thankfully after he described the directions for me.

"Thanks."

I turned but before I could leave the bathroom he advanced on me and grabbed me. I tensed, thinking he was on to doing something to hurt me but...

"I'm sorry."

It's a pretty weird thing when someone who literally beat the shit out of you less than 24 hours earlier turns around and hugs you. I found myself looking in the mirror and the look on his face, truly sincerely apologetic, made me even more set to try to right his wrongs.

"Don't bag it, dude." I told him.

I felt like it was mostly my fault anyway, like Danzo had said, none of it would've happened if I hadn't decided to come on to Madara. But as I found my bright yellow t-shirt and dark green shorts next to Madara's bed and pulled them on over my head, I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. I mean, I knew I was walking into Danzo's hands. That much was obvious. But I wasn't afraid of him. If there was anything I was afraid of, it was Madara or anyone close to him getting something on their record because of that idiot.

I leaned over Madara after pulling my socks up to my knees and sliding on my black Vans Era's.

Surprisingly, he didn't stir. While I was talking to Izuna, he'd rolled over onto his back and was lying across his full sized bed like a bear shot with five tranquilizer darts. I watched him for a while, let my fingers slid into his jet black shoulder length hair, unruly but somehow smooth and soft at the same time. And then my fingers grazed his cheek and touched the edge of his lips...

"I'll be back soon..."

I turned then, leaving his room without looking back.

-However long it took me to find a house I've never been to in a neighborhood I've never been to at one in the freaking morning-

I knocked on the door, the sound echoed. The neighborhood looked pretty peaceful. Nice, dark green grass, kid's bikes and toys out on the lawn without people having to worry about someone stealing them, garage's opened, back doors unlocked, you know, the whole nine. The perfect sign of people living without a care. Still, it wasn't nearly as uppity as Madara's side of town. Where people didn't even realize they were well off.

Something sounded on the other side of the door, but it didn't open. After a couple minutes, I pulled the screen door back and turned the knob. The door swung open.

"...Uh... Hello?"

"Up here."

I looked up to see a boy on the second floor, right in front of the stairs, with dark brown hair and wearing nothing but light blue pajama pants bottoms.

"Hiruzen, right?" I asked.

He nodded, stepping aside as I walked up all the steps and over to him.

"So where is he?" I asked.

He pointed all the way down the hall to the only room with a light inside.

"In the office."

"Couldn't have been something more accessible? Like the kitchen?"

Hiruzen cracked a smile. We both walked down the hall and he grabbed the knob, pulling the door open for me.

"What a fry man!" A voice suddenly exclaimed.

My eyes set on another boy with dark wavy hair lying on the couch in the room with a magazine cracked open. And another boy, with light brown hair sitting in a swivel seat, leaning over him. Clearly Kagami and Danzo.

"Chick's got a body like a brick house, no fake." Kagami went on.

"Let me see." Danzo said, grabbing the magazine.

The page extended into a drop down portion and his eyes widened.

"Can you dig it?" Kagami asked.

"Right on, dude. This chick is choice..."

"Guys!" Hiruzen spoke up, calling their attention.

Their eyes snapped over to me and then they both, scrambling like ants when you kick their mound over, tried to hide the magazine and sit up right.

"Hey, it's our favorite grody guy!" Kagami said.

After sitting on whatever magazine they'd been pouring over, Danzo turned around in his chair. I couldn't help but laugh. They honestly couldn't get any more unprofessional...

"What do you want?" Danzo asked.

"You said one am, right?"

He clasped his hands together.

"So, you're serious?"

"As serious as that porno magazine you're trying to hide."

Hiruzen grinned.

"Anyway..." Danzo went on. "Did you bring Madara?"

"Nope, see, that's why I'm pressed for time..." I said, sliding my hands into my pockets. "He's currently sleeping in bed and it's gonna be pretty bad if he wakes up and I'm not next to him..."

I smiled at him.

"I mean, bad for _you _anyway."

"Now you're bragging about your weirdo queer stuff?" Danzo asked.

I shrugged.

"Hey, at least I don't have to spend my nights reading porno's." I said, then I smirked. "I actually get _real _action."

A disgusted look crossed Danzo's face and Kagami covered his ears.

"Ew, cram it, you sicko!" Kagami exclaimed.

"Are you serious about that?" Hiruzen inquired. "You and Madara?"

"Could this face lie to you?" I asked, showing them one of my best innocent looks.

"Alright, then spill it." Kagami said, suddenly interested. "What was it like?"

I laughed, genuinely surprised to get that question and also incredibly amused by it at the same time.

"It was SOOO far out." I told them. "Best experience of my life, no kidding."

"Really?" Hiruzen asked.

Kagami smirked.

"Come on, man. No way, I mean, first off, how would you even-"

"CAN EVERYBODY SHUT UP?!" Danzo exclaimed.

I continued grinning, glad I had him feeling uncomfortable around me. It was a perfect way to gain the upper hand. I walked up to Danzo.

"Okay, so let's wrap this up quick, since we all have activities we want to get back to." I said, purposely giving a long hard look at the magazine he was sitting on. "Why don't you give me the tape, let Izuna off the hook, and hang loose? I mean, no one wants any real trouble, right?"

I nodded at Kagami and Hiruzen. Hiruzen nodded along with me and Kagami shrugged, disinterestedly.

"He broke the law." Danzo said. "We're a crime reduction faction. Our job is protecting the innocent and preserving the peace."

I laughed.

"Well you sure as hell didn't protect my innocent and peaceful ass." I said, pointing to the remains of the black eye I had gotten.

Danzo had a really ugly black eye that I'd given him from before. It was something Madara and I were joking about earlier, after noticing that both of us had shiners on the same eye. This whole town is going to be chock full of black eyes by the time we find real peace...

"We preserve it how we can." Danzo said.

"Well, just tell me then. How was I a threat to the safety of the city of Konoha?" I asked.

He glared at me for a while. At first I thought he wasn't going to answer but then...

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked. "You're distracting one of our key members."

"Why can't you run it without him? I thought you were a big shot."

He sighed.

"Every team needs specific kinds of members. Even though I hate that self-deserving, arrogant, muscleheaded bastard, he's smart and reliable...and we're weak without him..."

Hiruzen's eyes widened showing me that Danzo had never admitted something like that before.

"Alright, tell ya what. I'm pretty smart and reliable, too. How about if you back off of Izuna and Madara, I'll take their places." I said. "I mean, I don't think strength is a problem either...considering your face."

Kagami snorted.

Danzo didn't even seem slightly phased by my insult though. He continued talking.

"Well, first you have to prove yourself to us." He said.

He reached over the desk, pushing a photograph toward me.

"This asshole has been breaking into houses on the richer side of town. Madara thought he had the guy pegged down but he's still out there. We call him..."

"Orange Sweater" They all said in unison.

"Find that bastard, confront him, and neutralize him, and you'll be on to take their spots." Danzo said.

It was obvious why they called the guy Orange Sweater. In the photo I was looking at you could literally see nothing else except for the sweater the person was wearing.

"I can dig it."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Positive." I said, then I pointed at him. "And after that, I'll work on you."

He narrowed his eyes at my finger.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can tell that you put your heart and soul into this." I said. "This group that you have. And it's...probably because you think it's your destiny."

He was silent. From glancing around the office, with the type writer and the old styled paintings and quotes on the walls, and even the warm cooking fire place, I could tell it wasn't his. And I only had to look to the framed photographs on the desk to tell whose it probably was. Probably...the guy in the police uniform. With a police cap matching the one Danzo currently had on his head.

"It's cool to model after someone." I said to him, taking the photograph and turning around. "But when you do it for too long, you start to lose yourself...in the person that you think that model was."

While gripping the knob, I smiled.

"If you ask me, you look more like a teacher than a cop."

The looks on their faces were absolutely priceless. But I didn't mind it. It was my first step in being loyal to my words.

I popped my head back in the room.

"Oh, and sorry about the shiner by the way. Put some ice on it, it'll clear up."

"GET OUT!"

But at the end of the day, I was still a screw up. Really...

**Madara**

**Premonition Again**

I had a really jarring nightmare. It was one of those that had you waking up sweating and breathing hard and with tears on the cusps of your eyelids, but I don't cry so they didn't fall, and your hands shaking and the room feeling way more ominous and frightening than it did when you went to sleep. I curled into a ball, touching my sheets all over the place, reaching for him, aching for him.

"Hashi? Hashi, where are you?"

But my hands only touched cold sheets. Cold everywhere. Cold like the arctic. I even felt cold. As I lay there, curled, slowly the door creaked open.

"Hashirama?" I asked again.

The door opened fully and a black haired head poked in.

"No, it's me."

"...Izuna."

I watched as he shuffled into the room, head already bowed like he did something wrong. I looked at him. Knowing he had the information I wanted. Waiting for him to be the messenger.

"He left."

I continued waiting as Izuna searched for his words, tried to tell me.

"He went to Danzo to protect us."

I was already out of bed by the time he was finished speaking. I pulled the dark blue jeans I had been wearing up off the floor.

"He mainly went for me..." Izuna went on. "...But I don't get it..."

I found my shirt and shook it out, pulling it over my head, too.

"Why would he try to do something nice for me even after I beat him up?"

I walked around, looking for my socks, and dropping to my knees to find them under my bed.

"Why would he do something so nice?"

I rolled them out and pushed my feet into them.

"For someone he barely even knows?"

"Because, Izuna." I said, looking up at him. "That's him."

_He's the sun... The warmth... The air... The ocean... Everything beautiful. Everything loving. Everything peaceful... He's..._

"He's trying to be the positivity in the world." I explained. "So, he'll do anything for anyone...and think of himself last."

"But that's-"

"Exactly." I said, cutting him off as I found my black jacket. "It's how people like Danzo can use him."

I looked around my room, kicking things to the side until I found my vibrant blue Nikes.

"But that's where I come in." I said, stomping my feet into the shoes. "And anyone who touches him dies."

"But you don't even know where he is." Izuna protested. "They could've gone anywhere from Danzo's house."

"No, I know where he is." I said.

I reached for the hockey mask on the floor.

"There's only one place Danzo would send Hashirama if not back here." I said. "And that's to catch a criminal."

I looked at the mask in my hands.

"And there's only one criminal that Danzo finds interesting right now." I explained, finally lifting the mask and placing it over my face. "And that bastard is predictable. I know exactly where he is."

_I'm coming for you, Orange Sweater..._

"Wait, I'll come too." Izuna said, running out of the room with me.

I turned as I reached the staircase and stuck my hand out, pushing him away.

"You've done_ more_ than enough Izuna."

He looked down at his feet.

"I know I hurt Hashirama..." He muttered. "But I... I thought I was protecting you."

_Stupid brat... _

I reached over, giving him a quick one-armed hug and shoved him in the direction of his room.

"I'm the only one that can protect me." I told him. "So, just go to bed."

He played with his fingers fretfully. I sighed.

"I'll practice baseball with you tomorrow, okay?"

His face lit up.

"Really?"

"Yes. If you just cool out." I told him.

"Will Hashirama come with us?"

I didn't hesitate to nod.

"Most likely."

I expected his smile to diminish and him to storm off or some other act of prepubescent angst but instead, his smile grew wider.

"Alright! I'll look forward to it."

_The little creep... When the hell did he start liking him?_

I jogged down the stairs and stopped at the front door which Hashirama had left slightly open, probably because he didn't think he'd be long.

I looked back up at Izuna who was standing against the banister, watching me.

_What is this?_

I pushed the door open and stepped out into the crisp cold night. Even though it wasn't clear on the horizon, sunrise would be coming soon.

_This feeling..._

I would've gotten my motorcycle but my suddenly too controlling Mother friggin' sold it to 'save my dumb ass from going to jail'. So, I dashed out onto the sidewalk and sprinted down the road.

_I feel like something's wrong..._

Up Next: The next chapter will be the final chapter of this story. No hints this time. Sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hashirama**

**Choice: Him or Me?**

So, they sent me on my merry way to the richer side of town to find 'Orange Sweater' at like 3 in the morning by myself. Any normal person would at least think 'hey, this sounds dangerous, what is this Orange Sweater guy like anyway?' but you know me. Actually, I was pretty pumped because the entire thing was my idea. Taking Madara and Izuna's place and solving this little dispute with this other guy would be like hitting two birds with one stone, it would get Madara out of that situation and turn the group back into a 'Vigilante Justice League' or whatever...

Anyway, even though I felt like something freaky deaky was going on, I waited. For like freaking NINE YEARS.

"Where the heck is this guy?"

I wasn't even hiding after waiting so long. They told me the guy would be near the train tracks at a construction site. I was walking around under the only lamppost over there, next to a bulldozer, in plain site kicking the hockey mask they'd given me around in the dirt because, trust me, after waiting almost three hours for someone in a day-glo sweater you won't give even half of a damn anymore.

Then something creaked behind me. I tilted my head straight up to see someone standing in the seat of the bulldozer then before I could do anything the person jumped off the seat and into the dirt behind me.

"Don't move."

But that person really didn't know me.

I was running for my freaking life before the words even got out of his mouth. My feet slapped across the dirt and then, as I jumped over a fallen stepladder, a gunshot rang out, I tripped over my own two feet and turned around screaming. Literally, like a little girl.

"H-Hey, man! C-Chill out! Calm down!" I shouted.

And then strangely, the person froze. And I froze.

It's a weird moment... When you can kind of see the past in someone. As I was lying under another lamppost, and they were standing under the first lamppost, the lamps were like stage lights. We were on stage. The stage of life. And fate... It was honestly fate... That enabled me to see the truth in that person. See the personality in that person, as their hand rose attempting to flick phantom hair over their shoulder and they stood, swishing their hips in that way while they slowly zipped down the black face mask.

"...Hashirama?"

I knew that it was...

"Mito."

We stared at each other. Like I said, it was like stage lights. My turn to talk, say my lines. Or THE line. The most important one of the show.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" I exclaimed.

"I should be asking you the same thing!" She exclaimed.

Then we paused for a second and pointed at each other simultaneously.

"YOU'RE ORANGE SWEATER?!" I asked

At the same time she yelled.

"YOU'RE A GREEN GUY?!"

Then we paused.

"Green guy?" I asked at the same time she asked "Orange Sweater?"

I put my hands put.

"Alright, alright, let's take turns talking. First, let me talk."

"Why should you talk first?" She asked, then she sighed, shaking her head. "Look, talking is getting us nowhere. I have an important appointment with an asshole and you were about to fuck it up by getting in the way!"

"What?!"

"Dude, I was about to blow your asshole out through your dick!" She shouted at me.

"Hey, it's a free country, I didn't know you were going to be here! I'm looking for someone too!" Then I gave her a funny look. "Someone with your description."

She shook her head.

"That doesn't matter. Who I'm waiting for isn't you. I know that."

But I knew full and well who_ I_ was looking for was definitely her. And suddenly, as I thought that things began to fall into place... Everything... It had been right in front of my eyes the whole time. The way, when I was running for my life away from Izuna and the rest, I ran into her... Her...and she had been stuffing something into her bag. Had it been the orange sweater?

"But this means I was right all along then... You _are_ an accomplice to them." She said, cocking her head.

And then I started going back over it all in my brain, her consistent poking around my room, being so interested in my life and house, trying so steadfastly to be around me all the time, and even her solid interest in who had attacked me to the point that she practically begged me for the answer.

"Wait a second..." I said slowly. "You... You were only hanging around me to spy on me? I-I thought you liked me."

She had pulled the gun down to her sweater and was wiping the barrel clean, probably as a nervous tick and she looked at me, shaking her head.

"I did like you... _Did_... When we were children."

And even then... She had lied... That was what was bugging me when I saw Mr. Uzumaki's photo. She couldn't have been going to West Konoha to deliver a package...because he didn't live there! And when she was leaving, she gave the same excuse again! The same exact one... How could I have been so stupid!?

"But things change, Hashirama." She said, aiming the gun at me.

"So, what? You're going to kill me?"

She rolled her eyes, lowering it.

"I'm not a murderer." She said. "And as I said before, you're not my target."

But she was _my_ target. And I needed to keep her talking, in order to change her, stop her, keep Izuna and Madara safe.

"Well then humor me, tell me why you're doing this." I said.

She sighed, shrugging widely.

"I told you already, Hashi. What's the point of people who sit on the sidelines trying to brainwash people into only caring about their own happiness when there are wars going on all around them and people dying and bleeding on the battlefield?" she asked.

"What the heck does breaking into people's houses have to do with that?"

"Robin Hood." She said simply.

I blinked at her.

"Sorry... I don't speak crazy."

She rolled her eyes and turned banging her gun against the lightpost.

"Robin Hood!" She shouted. "The masked man who stole all the gold and wealth from the riches and spread them out among the poor!"

"Oh yeahhhh..."

"I'm not saying I condone communism." She said. "But it's a damn good place to start, taking from the bastards sitting on everyone's neck and siphoning everything off of them. You want to know the real reason I had to move away from you all that time ago?"

"Not really."

But she continued speaking anyway, she was on a roll. Seriously, women when they're on a roll. Broken record, I tell you.

"Because my mother didn't have enough money to keep the house! Yeah, stealing a TV here and a radio there won't contribute to peace for an entire nation. But we'll sell these objects, gain money under us, gain a following, and we'll start a campaign, and we'll force peace onto this country whether it wants it or not!" She declared. "Fuck flowers. Fuck peace signs and marches. Fuck sit-ins!"

And strangely, I was reminded of my Martin Luther King vs. Malcolm X conversation with Madara.

"Fuck ALL of that wayward bullshit! It works in theories but not in practice! And if you really want to know something Hashirama, the nice guy ALWAYS finishes last in the story. ALWAYS."

I stared at her for a long time, watching her as she flicked her long, vibrant red hair over her shoulder, which had been pinned up under the face mask. I thought about being in her father's room with her, and the way she'd been so forward and all over me, getting me drunk, probably trying to get me relaxed enough so that she could get my clothes off and go through my pockets. Trying to find any kind of evidence. In the end, Mito... A girl I really used to admire became nothing but a rat.

"So... I guess I'm the nice guy in the story then, huh? The one you just used?"

She tore her away from me, shaking her head.

"Casualties are necessary."

"So, I was a casualty?"

"You're a faggot anyway!" She yelled at me.

Strangely, I felt more passion as she yelled that sentence at me than in her entire monologue.

"You should be glad I won't be taking it to heart." She told me.

Then she balled her fists.

"All that matters to me right now is that bastard with his fancy kung-fu moves who broke Onoki's nose and treated all of us like we were freaking vermin..."

Kung-fu moves? I had to blink twice to make sure I'd heard her right.

"He's done making a fool out of me...out of _all_ of us. And I'm not bringing useless fire this time. I've come to _win_. He's gonna be surprised to see what I'm really capable of."

Well, that basically sealed it. There's only one person I know who consistently makes a fool out of people.

Silence rang out. She sighed, beginning to zip her hood back up.

"Just go home, Hashirama. I don't have anything else to say to you."

"I do." I told her. "What you're doing... I don't think this is the right way to go about it."

"What would _you_ know?"

I shrugged.

"Well... I'm not really one for Fairy Tales. I'm more of a philosophy geek, myself. But being that, I know something you don't."

She paused in pulling her hood up, and stared at me.

"In the true legend, Robin Hood was killed...in the end."

There was a cool feel in the air. A chilly wind and the smell of morning dew. The edges of the earth had begun to turn light blue. Birds had already been making enough ruckus all on their own.

"Philosophy, huh?" She asked. "Interesting... Well, being a Fairy Tale lover, _I_ know something _you _don't."

I raised my eyebrows.

"The 'peace-maker' is nothing more than the charred soil for the true soldier to walk on." She told me. "Do you get it Hashirama? You're not the hero, here. You're just the catalyst before the _real_ bomb really sets off!"

I smirked at her.

"And here I was thinking you had something less dramatic to say."

She sighed, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips.

"Why are you playing around with me? This isn't a game."

I slowly rose my arm and pointed at her.

"Because I know that's not the real Mito talking... It's just a card she's dealing. So, I'm going to keep playing along as long as you keep it up."

She gazed at me for a second, like she was considering it. Her gun lowered further and she moved to put it in her back pocket. But then I felt a slight warming on my back, the sun coming, the impending brightness of pink and orange and yellow. But maybe, if I had turned then, I would've realized it was more like a warning. A warning from the pit of my soul.

But I didn't, and I reacted only to her. Her eyes flicked up from mine, and her expression which had been calm and rather tender from my words became tensed and guarded. And then...

"Hashi!"

I turned. Coming face to face with the sunrise I thought I was feeling, the birds going over that sky horizon, and a cloud of dust rushing up behind someone skidding down the hill into the construction site as fast as they could. I knew who the person was, not because of the nickname they used or the way they spoke or anything obvious like that, it was just the urgency in their stride, the swagger with their step, the emotion in the tone. I knew... I knew...

I heard a gun cock, and my eyes flitted back to Mito. She had her arm outstretched. She'd pulled the gun back out. And I knew then, too, that I was too late. I didn't have enough time to tell her the truth. That I really_ was_ the person she had to meet. And that, if we were both there for a specific reason, there to meet a specific person, then we weren't each other's enemy. It was Danzo... Somehow, he set us up.

"Hashirama!"

But there wasn't enough time.

"Madara, STOP!" I shouted.

I ran toward him. Turning slightly to Mito as I did while she pointed, walking toward him, who she thought was her target, and Madara... He had his hockey mask on. Unlike with me, she wouldn't even hesitate. Wouldn't see a reason to. And he was still running toward me, we were close to reaching each other, his arm was outstretched, trying to get a hold of me.

"Mito, NOOO!"

Two gun shots blared through the air. Nearby birds flapped their wings, diving toward the escaping moon. I jumped. Madara fell back and hit the ground. I could feel something... An awful pain inside me. Like I couldn't walk. Like I couldn't breathe. My sunglasses, the one's he'd given me, fell onto the concrete and shattered. And then there was blood... So much of it.

**Madara**

**Sing To Me**

My eyes were barely open. And my ears were ringing. But I was alive. I was pretty sure it had all ended there. I was only looking at Hashirama. And I saw the urgency on his face, saw his pleading for me to stop and turn back but I needed to be there with him, needed to be beside him, so I pushed through that aching feeling I'd had that something was wrong. It wasn't until he'd ran toward me and she pointed the gun that I saw.

Two gun shots aimed at me.

It was too late for me to do anything. I was on the ground...

I honestly thought it had all ended there. So I was surprised when my eyes came back into focus. My mask had twisted on my face with the fall so I pulled it back, and off of my head. I felt an enormous weight on my torso and looked down at Hashirama who was lying over me.

Then it suddenly made sense... Hashirama had pushed me out of the way.

"Mada... Mada... Are you okay?"

I sat up slowly, feeling a strange warmth underneath me.

"I think I am." I replied.

I moved my arm, which was trapped between our bodies and my eyes widened... Widened as I looked at the thick running red substance on my jacket sleeve.

"Hashi?"

I sat all the way up, rolling Hashirama over onto his back where it was plainly visible.

Two gun shots aimed at me...but struck in him.

"...Hashi..."

The bright yellow t-shirt he was wearing quickly began to stain with red. And it was then, that everything began to sound around me. That static white noise disappeared. And I could hear her screaming as Hashirama's body began to uncontrollably shake and shudder.

"OH MY GOD... Hashirama... HASHIRAMA?!" Orange Sweater exclaimed.

I tossed my mask on the ground next to a shattered pair of sunglasses and...

"OH MY GOD, I'm so sorry! Oh my god!"

_Christ..._

I quickly took my jacket off and pressed it down against his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding and stop his convulsions.

"Oh my god, my god, my god..." She continued screaming.

I turned on her, lashing out.

"WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?!"

But she was a shaking, sobbing mess and dropped her gun and tripped over her own feet as she ran away.

"I'm gonna go get help. I'm gonna go get help!" She called.

_You better, you fucking asshole. This is all YOUR fault anyway! If I get my hands on you..._

Hashirama was staring up at the sky, blinking rapidly.

"Come on, Hashi..." I said to him after a while. "Who knows if we can trust her? We have to get you up and over somewhere closer to a phone booth or something."

But he was silent.

"Hashi, come on... I'm serious."

He continued blinking up past me.

"Hashi, stop playing around!"

"Madara..." He said slowly. "I... I can't feel my legs."

I looked down at where he was shot. Where the bullets stuck to the right of his lower abdomen, my fists tightened, pressing down on his wound harder, despite the fact that my jacket was soaking up quickly with all of his blood.

_It probably hit... His spine..._

"This... This hurts so bad..."

_And I can't carry him... He'll bleed even more that way._

I felt beads of sweat begin to form on my neck as I realized the complexity of the situation.

"It's going to be okay." I said to him, trying to keep my voice calm and think fast at the same time. "You'll be fine, okay? Just..."

I glanced around quickly at the deserted construction site around us. On the distant horizon, I could see some dust kicking up, where that idiot girl was running toward town. I looked in the opposite direction from where she'd gone.

_Maybe there's a closer house that way..._

"Okay... Okay..." I said, nodding as I formed a plan. "Hashi... Stay here and try to hold this on yourself. I'll try to get to the nearest house and get someone to come back for you."

His eyes quickly flicked down from their spot on the sky.

"No, Mada... Please..." His eyes began to water slightly. "Don't leave me."

I could feel my breathing rate speeding up.

"What the hell do you mean!? We need someone to help you!" I shouted at him.

But I knew the reason he wanted me to stay, deep inside I knew, it was likely because... He was scared that he wouldn't live until I came back. I felt my calmness going out of the window and I began to lash out at him.

"Why did you do this, huh?" I asked, squeezing the jacket. "Goddamn it, Hashirama! Why the FUCK did you do this!?"

I closed my eyes.

"I... I promised someone... I would... protect you with my life." He said.

His voice was getting raspy, sounding almost...monotone.

_Why... Why... Why... That was my job. I said I would... If either of us were ever in danger, I would... So... Why?!_

"Madara..." Hashirama said.

"Stop talking." I said. "You need to concentrate on staying okay."

His blood had fully soaked up the jacket by that point, I grabbed my shirt, pulling it off over my head and using that to press down on him instead.

"Mada..."

I slowly looked into his eyes, hands shaking. His lips twitched, his attempt at a smile.

"...Could you...sing for me again?"

The shaking slowly extended from my hands to my entire arms.

"Hashi, No. You have to-"

"P-Please..."

My heart was beating so fast I thought it would break out of my chest. I looked around at the deafening silence around me and nodded. Something... Anything to fill this void.

I licked my lips, tried to steady my breathing and draw my voice forward.

[ Y-You and I must make a pact... ]

[ We must bring salvation back. ]

[ Where there is love... I'll be there. ]

Hashirama moved his hands and put them over mine, which were soaking in his blood. My t-shirt was filling up fast.

[ I'll be there... I'll be there. ]

He grabbed my hands, taking them off of his stomach and raising them to his face. I followed his finger tips, cradling his head and pulling him into my lap.

[ Whenever you need me... ]

His eyes shined up at me with the sunrise reflecting in them, like with the sunset back at the beach, causing them to sparkle again.

"I-I'll...b-be..."

I couldn't keep singing... It was like my voice ran away or something. And my teeth stuck together and I bent over him, hugging him to me and slowly touching my forehead to his. Very quickly, my hands, underneath his head, were filled with the warm, salty wetness that was dropping like a waterfall onto his cheeks.

"W-What t-the hell are y-you...cryin' for?" He asked me.

I slowly opened my eyes, the corners of Hashirama's lips were struggling, twitching, to keep themselves in his characteristic smile. By then, my entire body was shaking. His face, normally that warm brown hue, was so pale... I closed my eyes again.

_Jesus..._

"M-Madara..."

_Don't do this to me._

"...I...I love you, Madara."

I could barely breathe, my own tears... Tears I swore I'd never create... They were choking me.

"S-Shut up." I whispered. "You can tell me that...tomorrow. When we're in my bed together, sleeping."

"P-Please..."

I knew what he wanted from me. I knew what he wanted to hear but...

"You're going to be fine, Hashi... They'll come. They'll come, okay?"

"M-M-Mada..." He stammered.

I could barely keep holding onto him I was shaking so hard and my tears were running and I couldn't breathe but I knew what he wanted... I knew what he wanted...

"Hashirama... I love you, too." I whispered to him. "I could never... n-never... love anything or anyone more than I love you right now. So just stay with me... Hang on. _Please._"

I lowered my head over his and our lips touched, pressing. I could feel him feebly pressing back for a while. And I thought it would all really be fine. But then, the pressure he was sustaining faltered. His lips fell from mine. And, I... I rose my head.

"Hashirama?"

His head was propped on my lap so I let my hands travel further down his chest, to his body, tapping him.

"Hashi... Hey... Hashi?"

I tapped him harder, almost shaking him.

"Hashi, stop playing around. It's not funny."

I lowered my hands to where the two bullets went, where my shirt was, which had also already soaked up and pressed down on it. I pressed harder, shaking him a bit, but his lips, which I'd just kissed, were beginning to turn blue. And his skin was pale. And his eyes were closed and... I leaned back over his face, squeezing him into my hug, pulling him as close as possible...

"Hashirama..." I begged, but he was still silent. "God, No... No, no, please..."

I rocked back and forth, pressing my face into his soft hair.

"Somebody HELP ME!"

My voice rang out. But there wasn't a reply. Just the stupid sun rising, blinding my eyes, causing me to have nothing to look up to. I could only look down, down at what was in my arms. With his beautiful brown hair waving in the wind slightly, and beautiful lips and skin and...

"SOMEBODY PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME!"

I might've screamed for hours, or minutes, or however long... I just know by the time I could even hear a whisper of an ambulance in the distance, my voice was gone. I could barely whisper. But I tried to speak anyway.

"Hashi... You're gonna be fine, okay? You're going to be fine."

But he was cold. He was so cold. Goddamn it he was so fucking cold...

"I promise we'll stay together forever, okay? F-Forever... So just...wait. Please..."

And it might've been the wind chill against my bare chest, or the stiffly cold body in my arms, or the fact that my muscles were worn from shaking so much... But by the time Orange Sweater returned with that ambulance and they came to pull him from my arms, with one of the paramedic's already calling the morgue, I felt my blood inside of me change... And... I also went cold.

**Flat Line**

My fingers went around and around the cold object.

_The bells... I can still hear them. So loud. Like at Tsubasa's..._

My fingers shook, holding the hard black thing.

_And... Why did they chose 'Amazing Grace' as the song to play?_

But my eyes didn't produce tears, they couldn't. Never again.

I'd already changed, pulling my black slacks and my black shirt and tie off and replacing them with khaki's. His khakis. And a deep, forest green t-shirt also with my cameo patterned Vans. I had also pulled my light, white washed jean jacket on, too. Someone, probably his step mother, had dropped it on our porch after it looked like she ran over it multiple times with a car and spray painted the words "die" on it. Somehow, my mother was able to get the stains out. Not that it mattered to me at all.

_Blame me. Go ahead. It is my fault anyway..._

I pressed my lips to the tip of gun. And grabbed my hockey mask. And pushed the door to my room open.

My feet hit the solid brown oak wooden steps echoing as I tapped down them and walked past the living room. I paused. Izuna and my mother sat in the living room. They were both sitting in separate chairs, still wearing their funeral outfits.

With Izuna, I could see fire in his eyes, the fire that opposed my ice. He nodded at me slowly. We didn't need words. I could feel him saying it...

_Get them. And when you've got them. Don't hold back._

"If anyone comes to the door-" I began.

My mother held her hands up.

"I won't answer it. I _know_."

We stared at each other. She motioned toward the door.

"Go do what you need to."

I fitted the hockey mask on my face, touched my pockets to be sure I had what I need, snagged one of my mother's match boxes and cigarettes off the counter and pushed the door open, walking about into the frigid night. The world...only seemed to get colder since the sun died. I turned on my front lawn, cutting across the grass at an angle when something moved in the bushes, I froze, hand edging toward my gun, ready for whatever popped into my way.

_Wait... Is that...?_

I straightened up and slid my hands into my pockets.

_Never mind, he's harmless._

An albino looking boy with whitish gray hair and pinkish eyes walked toward me. He was also still wearing his funeral clothes. He glanced down at the gun in my hand and nodded.

"So you're going to do this. With the way you looked at the ceremony, I had a feeling you would..." His hand dipped into his pocket, surfacing with a photo.

"I would go with you but I'm sure you want to do this yourself. And even though I hate your guts for mixing him in with your gang bullshit, I..."

He slowly placed the photograph in my hand.

"...I know you loved my brother."

I looked down at the photograph, feeling a slight twinge in my heart where there hadn't been one for almost a full four days since the encounter at the construction site.

"Show them no mercy."

The photograph was a recent one, a school photo, of Hashirama. And he was playing, as usual. During school photo's you're supposed to look prim and proper and he did, he was actually wearing a collared shirt for once, but he had his hand up with his middle finger going all the while grinning at the camera like an angel and I found I wanted to smile. He was so full of life. If there was any picture to describe what kind of person he was, that was it. Someone who could tell someone to fuck off with a smile on their face.

I tucked it into my back pocket and nodded at him.

"That's the plan."

-FLAT LINE-

_I can't stop hearing the sound. The flat sound. The monotone line. It's so loud in my ears_...

It didn't take long to find those losers. Even in the dullest circumstances, Kagami and Hiruzen are like two peas in a pod, they're usually, if not always, in the same vicinity. And that day, I knew they would both be in Hiruzen's grandfather's house. Grandfather because his parents were both in jail for nothing more than being suspected communists. As I neared his house, I pulled my mask off, hooking it on my pants.

"Oh, good afternoon Madara." His grandfather said as he watered the plants in front. "The boys are inside, go right on up."

"Kagami and Hiruzen are the only ones in?" I asked.

He nodded, then he looked at his watch, as I knew he would, and shook his head.

"Goodness, it looks like it's time for work again."

He put the pot on the ledge and pulled his keys from his pocket. He was already dressed down in his garbage man uniform.

_The uniform of shame, really..._

"These cans won't pick up themselves, am I right?"

"No sir." I replied.

"Well, do me a favor and water the rest of the violets for me. I think it makes Hiruzen happy to see them grow in spring."

I watched him walk off toward his Pontiac and roll down the driveway. I pushed the door open, automatically met with sounds of playful laughter and joking around coming from the kitchen.

"I can't wait until we get older and become cops." It sounded like Kagami. "So I can get a whole bunch of guys in a line and just be like 'doosh-doosh-doosh'. Like all day."

Hiruzen laughed.

"Whatever, Kagami, most officers don't use their gun even one time over five years."

"Oh, I'll find a reason to use it!" He said. "Action, dude. What's life without action?"

"A life where you actually live!"

I walked around to their small dining room which was bathed in darkness and zipped my backpack down, putting everything inside except the one key thing I needed and my gun.

"Hey, by the way, can you look at my balls and see if one's smaller than the other?"

"What?! No way!"

"It's not even like queer or anything, like 100% manly, dude. Just look and tell me."

I could hear Hiruzen muttering to himself.

"You're lucky no one else in here..."

"Hurry up, I gotta pee really bad."

I edged out of the living room, sneaking up behind them as Kagami began to drop his shorts.

"Now, I really don't want to do it!" Hiruzen exclaimed.

I jumped over Kagami pulling the handcuffs around his neck tightly and forcing him against me.

"Move and he dies." I said, pointing the gun at his head with my other hand.

Kagami was so shocked, he went dead silent. Or maybe I was choking him. I wasn't courteous enough to find out.

My eyes flicked over to the broken water heater Hiruzen always had in the corner of his small kitchen. I motioned to Hiruzen to go over there, which he obeyed and nodded.

"Sit down."

He slowly sat down, back against the water heater, I pushed Kagami on the ground too, pointing the gun at them.

"Don't move." I reminded them.

I wove the handcuff chain in between one of the loops of the heater and cuffed one of their wrists each.

Kagami smirked.

"I didn't know you were into kinky shit." He said.

"With what you were just about to do, it seems like you're more into that than I am." I said.

Kagami grinned.

"Well, I have my limitations. Beginning and ending with dicks up my ass." He replied.

I allowed him a smile.

"Funny." I said.

Then my grin disappeared.

"What do you know?" I asked them.

They both stared at me, then glanced at each other.

"What do you mean?" Hiruzen asked.

"I don't have time for games. _You _know what I'm talking about. _I_ know what I'm talking about. The quicker you answer me, the quicker you can get back to life, okay?"

I pointed my gun right between Hiruzen's eyes as I spoke.

"I don't want to have to use force. But if you don't comply. I won't hesitate."

"Madara, you know we're sworn to secrecy on-"

I pulled the gun back, whipping it across his face and shearing off a slice of skin there. Hiruzen's scream rang out as his free hand jumped to his head.

"What the hell, man!?" Kagami exclaimed. "Just chill out!"

"I don't want to hear excuses. Either you tell me what I want to know or you don't live to see tomorrow."

"_No, Mada... Please don't leave me."_

I blinked, shaking the memories out of my head and looking at them seriously.

_This is perhaps the worst possible day to fuck with me, assholes. _

I put the gun on the table, lifting the package of cigarettes and striking a match.

"I'm listening."

"Hashirama came to Madara to strike a deal." Kagami said quickly. "That's it."

"That's all you know?" I clarified.

His eyes flicked to the left.

"...Yes." He told me.

Hiruzen's eyes were tearing up as he held his face.

"That's going to scar up pretty bad." I told him. "But you know what's going to scar up worse?"

I picked the gun back up and shoved it between Kagami's legs.

"Having only one testicle instead of a smaller one."

Kagami gave me a look, a look that probably meant 'I think you're bullshitting' and smirked.

"You know, in some circumstances, that's actually a better deal."

I ignored him, turning to Hiruzen.

"Kagami just lied to me." I said. "I know you're smart enough to realize when it's time to tell the truth. If you don't tell me what you really know..."

I cocked the gun. Kagami seemed to get anxious, shifting nervously.

"You have five seconds." I told them. "Five..."

Hiruzen's eyes widened but he didn't open his mouth.

"Four..."

"Come on, Mada... It's not even that big of a deal." Kagami said, trying to move but failing.

"Three..."

My eyes shifted up to his. He began edging on hysteria.

"Chill out, man, please!" He yelled.

"Two..."

"I'm you fucking COUSIN, man!" He shouted at me. "You'd shoot me over a FUCKING FAGGOT?!"

"_Mada... P-Please..."_

A gun shot rang out. Kagami screamed so loud and long his voice got hoarse and he began to choke because of a lack of breath. He struggled to draw air back into his lungs as he kicked his legs back and forth hard and grabbed his thigh with his free hand.

"F-Fuck!" He shouted. "FUUUUUUUUCK!"

I lifted the gun, looking at the gregariously bleeding hole in his thigh.

"Sorry, I shot a bit earlier than I meant to." I said, shrugging. "But at least it wasn't your balls."

Kagami's hair matted against his face with the sweat and tears beginning to frame it.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

I shoved the gun at his face.

"Keep insulting my intelligence and it'll be worse." I said to him. "You fucking idiot, always playing around and treating everything like a goddamn game. This is real life, you piece of shit."

I tapped the gun against his cheek as he sobbed, shaking and moaning.

"And right now I'm your fucking God, so if you value your life, asshole, talk."

"Danzo...planned it." Kagami said.

He sucked in a deep choking breathe and bit his lips, looking at me with those dark, red rimmed eyes. It seemed like he was getting more serious than I'd ever seen him in my entire life.

"H-He planned that Hashirama would come and he planned to send to him to see Orange Sweater."

"So he set it up with Orange Sweater?"

Hiruzen nodded.

"We already know who Orange Sweater is." Hiruzen said, wiping his own tears. "During that fight where you kicked all of their asses near those rich houses, there was a video recorder going. Danzo noticed it and later, we broke into one of house and got a copy of that tape to use against her as blackmail."

_Her?_

"And Danzo called her up and said one of us was ready to out her to the public and get them all sent to jail unless she did what he said."

_So, in the end, even that person became a puppet._

"And then what did he plan?" I asked. "Did he plan for Orange Sweater and Hashirama to kill each other?"

Hiruzen held his free hand up.

"I don't know what he planned. That's all we know. That they went to meet each other. If Orange Sweater shot him, that wasn't our plan. That was _her_."

_No..._

I stood up.

_It was still Danzo's plan. Because Orange Sweater hadn't shot Hashirama. That girl seemed to not mind him at all despite the fact that he had been wearing green and standing right in front of her unarmed for God knows how long._

I pushed the cigarette back into my mouth.

_But when I showed up, she reacted toward me like I was her target. All I need to know is who she was_ supposed _to kill._

I blew the smoke out and pushed the gun back into Kagami's crotch.

"Is that the truth?"

He nodded hard, lifting his other bloody hand and grabbing my wrist with it.

"Yes, yes, it is. It really is, I _swear_."

"But you knew something big was going to happen, didn't you?" I asked him. "You had to know that Danzo planned to get rid of him somehow... And you agreed with that, right?"

They were both silent.

"Exactly." I said.

_Which is why you're both guilty._

I pulled the photo of Hashirama out of my pocket.

"So you're just as at fault for his death as the one who pulled the trigger." I said to them. "Why don't you say your last words to him?"

Kagami looked at the picture, shaking his head.

"Oh God... Madara, please... You wouldn't really-" Kagami stammered, tears ensuing.

"What do you have to say to him?" I repeated.

"I... I don't know."

I cocked the gun.

"I-I'm sorry, okay?!" He started sobbing. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't know that was going to happen to him! I _swear_, I didn't know! I'm not a murderer... Please... I'm..."

I shifted, pulling my gun from between his legs as a dark, wet stain grew over his crotch.

"Gross..." I muttered, hopping up on the counter to clean the gun.

"I'm sorry, too." Hiruzen said quietly. "If I'd known I was assisting in his death, I wouldn't have let him go."

He wiped his face where the gash from his forehead had started to bleed down his face and into his eyebrows.

"If you think killing us will make up for it, then... Do it."

I scoffed.

_Like I need your permission. Just save it..._

I stretched, pulling a note out of my back pocket and pulling the phone on the counter closer to me. I dialed the numbers...

"Read this note when they answer." I told him.

"Hello, this is the local police station, what's your emergency?"

Hiruzen's eyes flicked over the sentences.

"My name is...Hiruzen Sarutobi and me and my friend, Kagami Uchiha, were accomplices in..." He swallowed. "W-Were accomplices in the murder of Hashirama Senju."

I blew the smoke out into the air again. Kagami's sobbing grew slightly louder as I jumped off the counter and walked over to the living room where my backpack was. I picked it up, rearranging everything as it was and paused by the door as Hiruzen said the last few words. But he struggled, I turned, giving him a look, prompting him to finish.

"We're both...very, very s-sick people...and we need to taken into custody for a l-long time." He finally said.

He hung up the phone.

"So...this is what you wanted." Hiruzen whispered. "To finish us off like this... It's really cruel."

I lifted my mask, fitting it back over my face and pulling the collar of my jean jacket up against the cold outside.

_Yes... Because if they're captured as murder accomplices, they'll never be cops. For Hiruzen, with his parents, and Kagami with his sisters, they became two kids who wanted to be the justice they thought the world was missing. Justice that wouldn't run innocent teen girls out of a city and lock away two parents just because of political ideology. Justice that they lost along the way... They both... Hid themselves in a world of laughter, in Kagami's case, and feigned ignorance, in Hiruzen's case. _

I glanced back at them one last time, with Kagami shaking in his own mess of blood and piss and Hiruzen looking down at his lap, eyes dead to the world.

_But it's over now. Everything I started. It all ends tonight._

I slammed the door closed, feeling the wind immediately whip my hair back off of my face and jostle my cigarette as I casually walked over to the garden. My fingers curled around the handle of the water canteen as I picked it up, tilting it slightly over the blooming violets.

-FLAT LINE-

_That noise. It's so loud every time I close my eyes. It's all I can hear. All day, every day._

"Did you finish your shower, honey?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Good, because I won't be here to remind you to take it in the morning."

"I promise I did already, Mommy."

An older, tired looking woman leaned down and kissed the forehead of a boy with frizzy dark brown hair and tucked him into bed.

"Sleep well."

"I will."

She left the room then, content that her son would be fine. As he was every night when she left at exactly 11pm and went to work in the city. She closed the door softly, steadily walking toward the stairs where she stopped, jumping slightly as her eyes came upon another boy.

"Oh! This is a lovely surprise, Madara... Uh... How...did you get in the house?"

"Danzo tells me where he keeps the key. I wanted to see if he was feeling alright."

"...Alright? Why wouldn't he?"

"He was really good friends with Hashirama. Didn't you know?"

"Hashira... Oh... Oh, do you mean that poor boy who had the funeral today?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh wow... No... Well, Danzo has been acting rather strange lately." She shook her head then. "But he doesn't tell me much. You know boys. Well...go ahead, then."

"Thank You."

I stood, waiting until she opened and closed the door downstairs. Then I walked up...and pushed his bedroom door open. He sat there in bed, probably having heard the entire conversation I'd had with his mother, and his eyes were locked on his bedsheets.

We were both silent. I could hear the grandfather clock in the corner of his bedroom ticking...ticking...ticking...

"I knew you would come."

I walked over to his bed and sat up on the dresser next to it.

"Good. Then we don't have to waste any time." I said, pulling another cigarette out of the carton.

"Can you not smoke in here?"

I lit the cigarette anyway, blowing the smoke out all over his bed.

"You have more important things to worry about." I told him.

He glared at me.

"So what? You're gonna threaten me with that gun? Say you'll kill me if I don't tell the truth? I'm no snitch."

"I know you're not." I said. "Neither are Kagami and Hiruzen. That's why I chose you all."

I tipped the filter on his dresser.

"But that doesn't mean you can't be broken...like _they_ were."

He lowered his head and sighed.

"So, you set up this whole meeting with Orange Sweater and Hashirama for what?" I asked. "Was it a fuck up on your part? Was it really supposed to be me and not Hashirama?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Why would I ask _you_ to go?" He mumbled. "It was _supposed_ to be him. He thought he was being smart... By doing all the talking and setting the conditions. But I called his thoughts."

He tapped his finger against his head.

"I knew what he was going to say before he even said it that fa-"

I hand twitched toward my gun next to me on the dresser. My eyes said it all.

_Watch your fucking mouth, Danzo. I'll rip you to fucking shreds. _

He looked at me wearily.

"...I-I knew he was going to volunteer to take your place. That was the only move he could make. So I planned for it."

"Okay, so what the hell did Orange Sweater have to do with all that?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" I repeated.

He glared at me. I lifted the gun, literally seconds away from jumping off the dresser and bashing him across the head with it.

"ALRIGHT! WAIT!" He put his hands out. "I was black mailing her!"

"Right. You had footage of her real identity and she wanted to get that. But what did that have to do with her being at the construction site at three in the morning?"

"I told her to go there."

"Okay." I said to him, nodding hard. "Now, we're getting somewhere. So you _told_ her, right?"

"Yes."

"And you told her to kill him in exchange for the footage." I said, reaching for my gun.

"Yea- I mean, NO! No, I didn't!"

He stammered, inching away from me.

"I gave her plain instructions. I said that... The guy who was coming there at that time was the same guy who beat up all her friends and embarrassed her. I told her that he had the footage. So... If she wanted it, she had to..." He paused momentarily.

"What?" I asked, snapping my fingers at him. "I'm getting impatient."

"She had to disable him."

_This goddamn bastard..._

"Okay." I said airily. "So you set her up for that and set Hashirama up to go there as a ploy to 'disable' him."

"She was supposed to shoot him in the legs." He said.

"_Madara... I-I can't feel my legs."_

"If she fucked up and he died, that's not my fault! I didn't give her those instructions."

"_This hurts so bad."_

"It was all on her!"

"_Madara..."_

I stared at the cigarette burning between my fingers for a long time.

"Look... Madara... I didn't mean for this to happen." Danzo suddenly spoke up.

I put the cigarette down, being careful not to smudge it, and picked up my gun. Danzo's voice immediately began to slip into hysteria.

"No, I'm serious. I really, really didn't mean this."

I held the gun in my hands, turning it over and over again.

"He wasn't supposed to die. That wasn't the plan!"

I slowly looked up at him.

"But...disabling him so that he never walks again_ was_ the plan, right?"

Danzo stared at me, breathing heavily and licking his lips.

"You were going to leave! I _had_ to do something! You were going to betray us!" He gripped his sheets. "Just like... Just like my father's comrades."

_How idiotic..._

"And it was _all_ his fault! I couldn't let him destroy this!"

"You're so weak." I said, shaking my head at him. "You can't even realize when you're being eaten alive by someone else's will."

I slid off the dresser.

"You're not your father."

He stared at me, eyes widening slightly.

"But it's too late for you anyway." I said, raising the gun.

Then I pointed to the cord telephone next to his bed.

"Pick it up."

His eyes never left the gun and he obeyed lifting it.

"Call this number and read this."

I slowly pushed the note toward him and lifted it...lips trembling as he read it in his head.

"Hello, this is the local police station, what's your emergency?"

He was silent.

"Hello?"

I pressed the gun to his temple.

"Is anyone there?"

"My name... M-My name is Danzo...Shimura..."

As he spoke, I could hear it all within me, playing back like a tape.

_Dolphin surfing... Train jumping... Boxing..._

"And I-I'm r-responsible for Hashirama Senju's murder."

And even further before that. The first day we met. And he looked at me. And he tried to stop me from getting detention. But we both ended up in there anyway and got to talking. I knew... I knew that first conversation that he was different, that he was the one I'd spent my entire life looking for.

"...I confess...to his murder and I... I a-accept full responsibility."

_And I thought I would spend my entire life with him._

"A-And... I-In a few m-minutes... I... I-I'm going to..."

_But in the end, the cruel real world we live in... Wouldn't let it happen._

Like snapshots, my mind traced back over it all...

_Tsubasa's shattered sunglasses... The red stained yellow t-shirt... His final words to me..._

"I-I'm going to k-kill myself." Danzo finished.

I pointed to the phone, prompting him to hang it up, which he did. He'd gotten to the end of the note. I dropped the gun, allowing it to hook over my forefinger and the base of it pointed in his direction.

He slowly grabbed it, holding it in his hand. I put my hand over his, pushing the gun to his temple.

"Madara... C-Can I say something?"

He looked up at me, his entire face was dipping with tears. Which was strange to me, considering I'd never seen him cry.

"Hashirama... He... He said something to me before he left." Danzo whispered. "He said he wanted to save me, _change_ me. And he said that same line... That I'm not my father. When he said that... When he left... I really regretted everything and I wanted to call him back but it was already... Already..."

"Are you telling me this because you think I'm going to take pity on you and try to 'change' you?" I asked him. "You're making a huge oversight... Hashirama and I have never seen eye to eye on ideology."

_We may have been able to. We were close to being able to. And then_ you_ killed him._

His lips trembled wet with his running nose as he spoke.

"I just want you to know that...I-I'm r-really sorry."

"That's fine."

I wasn't sure if he thought by saying sorry, I was going to let him go. Or if he thought I would break down with tears at the humanity of it all and we'd sing old church spirituals and hug and be friends.

But I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't feel ANYthing. I couldn't feel anyTHING. There was literally nothing inside of me that could catch whatever sorry plea he was trying to throw.

_It's over. _

"Goodbye, Danzo."

I pressed his finger down over the trigger and the gun shot off. I'd begun to get used to guns going off so close to me, so the loud shock of it didn't make me cringe. But the blood splattered all over my clothes. Where there was already Kagami and Hiruzen's blood. And the gun was a mess. And his pillow and sheets were soaked with the thick stuff. And all it really reminded me of was...

"_SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!"_

I reached for my cigarette, taking a moment to smoke it again. I stared at the mess of a human spectacle in front of me, and then grabbed my backpack and walked out.

-FLAT LINE-

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. The sound of it. Why can't I get it out of my head?!_

The woman inside the house was sobbing. Which she had been for a good amount of time. As she left the house and leaned up against her old station wagon she balled her fists, slamming her head against the car and screamed out.

"Why?! ...Why did it have to be this way?!"

She was at rage with herself.

"Why did our last conversation have to be a fight?!"

And rightly so.

"Why did I...Why did I slap him?"

She got into her car, backing down the driveway messily and narrowly avoiding multiple mailboxes and she drove out into the street, speeding.

In the window of one of the bedrooms, there were three beds. One was empty, one was occupied by a boy who was curled up into a ball with the sheets over his head and unmoving, only thing to be seen was a tuft of whitish hair. And the other was about to be occupied by a boy in a wheelchair, as a girl who had been carrying him on her back, let him off into the sheets.

"Sleep now, Itama." She whispered. "Everything's going to be fine."

The boy's face looked like it was going to be a permanent red. Like he'd been crying for days on end.

"I miss him so bad, Mito." The boy whimpered.

She leaned down and hugged him.

"I know... I know..."

As she hugged him, she glanced up and out of the window and jumped, slightly startled. But then her eyes hardened, slightly glazing over. And she nodded, understanding what needed to be done. She kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll be back in a second to read you that story, alright?"

He nodded slowly and lay down as she walked out.

I stood underneath the light of a phone booth a little ways down the street. I saw her walking in the distance, coming to meet me. And when she was there, right in front of me, unexpectedly, she broke down, tears rimming her eyes, and her hands shook and she grabbed her hair and said...

"Whatever you want to do, just do it." She said. "I... I hate myself enough already."

She shook her head hard.

"I'm living a lie. His brothers... They don't even know _I'm _the one who..."

"You were a puppet." I said to her.

She froze, looking up at me. Probably shocked with hope that I was going to take pity on her. But like with Danzo, I had no pity left for anything.

"But a puppet still has responsibility. For one, no puppet becomes one unknowingly."

"...What do you want with me?"

"The truth."

"You were there."

"I saw what I saw. But why were _you_ there?"

"The leader of your 'Green Guy Group' had a tape of me. He said... He said the guy who made us all look so stupid that day had it and that if I wanted it to not get out, I would have to impair him."

_So, that Danzo was telling the truth... Interesting. _

"So why didn't you do it before I showed up?" I asked. "Why did you point the gun at me?"

"You were the one who kicked my friends asses weren't you?"

I nodded.

"...I knew Hashirama wasn't the guy I was there for." She said quietly. "I told him to get out of there, but..."

_When he saw me... And she turned on me, he..._

"He's just a stupid righteous guy, like that. So fucking stupid..."

And I was surprised to see there was something we agreed on.

"Your target was Hashirama all along." I revealed to her. "Danzo planned it so that you would impair him. He was the reason I stopped being a 'green guy', as you call it, and Danzo wanted me back."

Her eyebrows rose.

"He planned everything perfectly. Even right down to how Hashirama would act. But he didn't predict that Hashirama would know you personally and you wouldn't fire."

_He couldn't have predicted that._

She sighed, shaking her head.

"It all makes sense now. He _knew _he was the target... That's why he..."

"_I promised someone that I would protect you with my life."_

Jumped in the way.

_But still... It was my fault mostly... If hadn't come, if I stayed away and didn't rush toward him so blindly, so carelessly, I wouldn't have been put in the line of fire and this girl, the one I'd already provoked by pointing out the fact that she was too cowardly to shoot anyone, wouldn't have tried to shoot me. I singlehandedly set up his death myself...right down to the creation of the vigilante group to begin with. He was destined to die... The moment he laid eyes on me. _

And that was something I would be haunted by until the day I died. Mito continued muttering to herself, also tortured by her own thoughts.

"That idiot... And what I said to him..." Her lips trembled. "God, I was being a lunatic. I was just..._talking_... But I told him that he was nothing but the charred ground for a real hero to walk on. Imagine dying... And that's the last thing I said."

At least that wasn't the last thing he _heard_. In the end... He got to hear what he wanted.

"_I could die listening to your voice."_

I tried to shake the voices out of my head again.

_Christ, Hashi..._

"There's a reason we're standing at a phone booth." I said. "You need to call the police."

She looked down.

"Turn yourself in for the direct murder of Hashirama Senju. Give them the evidence, your gun, your testimony. And give yourself up for all the crimes you've committed so far."

Her tears began falling again, mixing in with her red hair.

I pulled the phone off the hook and the dial tone sounded as I pressed it into her hand.

"If you don't... I'll find you and this 'pass' I'm giving you will be revoked. And instead of needing a prison entrance, you'll need a _morgue _entrance... Like Danzo is currently getting."

Her eyes flicked up to mine as I said that. I knew what she wanted to ask. But I couldn't understand how she figured I was lying. Her eyes went over my body, my khakis and my shirt and my jacket all stained heavily in blood. As though her brain was comprehending what it all meant for the first time.

_It's over._

"You... You really, really loved him, didn't you?"

I turned around, hiking my backpack further up my shoulder and walked away.

It didn't take long to get where I was going. The bit of brush behind the shack house we used to make up plans in. I pulled all my clothes off, or rather, his clothes. And tossed them into a pile on the ground. I pulled the spare clothes I'd packed in my backpack out and put them on. Then I found the lighter fluid we normally hid in the shack and poured it over the backpack where I stowed all the evidence I wanted to discard.

"_Mada, I want to stay with you forever."_

I lit the match from my cigarette carton and tossed it, revealing in the rush of warmth the sudden blaze brought.

"_...You, promise?"_

I watched it all burn until it was nothing more than ashes upon ashes and when I was certain I could leave it, completely positive, I turned away.

"_Jesus, Madara... I'm so in love with you."_

I pulled the hood of my black pullover up and stuffed my hands in my pockets, trudging off.

_Love...? I thought I knew what that was. When I was with him, I was certain I did. But now... It's getting a lot less clear._

When I got home, Izuna and my mother were sitting in front of the television.

"BREAKING NEWS: The culprits behind the local murder of 15 year old Hashirama Senju have..."

They glanced at me as I walked by, we all shared glances, slight nods, and then I continued up the stairs, blocking the rest of the words like "suicide" and "injuries" and "suspicious circumstances" out.

In my bedroom, I'd torn a card in half. I felt part of my heart, part of my soul wrenching as I grabbed the pieces of the card and put it together, reading the phone number on it.

"...Hello?" The voice said.

_Soon, it'll all be over._

"Father."

**Back To The Tracks**

I could hear the clock ticking over the television in the living room. The TV was off. As it had been for the past 12 hours.

_I'm sick of listening to how the police claim they 'miraculously' discovered the group of murderers of an innocent tenth grader and the leaders behind two prominent 'chain gangs' all in one fell swoop._

My guitar leaned up against the couch. I'd been sleeping on the couch and my Mother brought it down to me. Probably as some kind of sick joke. But I couldn't even bare to stay in my own bedroom for more than five seconds, let alone sleep in there.

_My bed... It smells like him._

At some points, even just walking past my room had my hands shaking.

"_There can't be anything wrong about how this feels."_

I got to my feet. Finally ready to do what I'd been planning all morning. I had absolutely nothing except the clothes on my back and the little that remained in my pockets. As the couch creaked, footsteps sounded in the hall. I walked on. The person stood in my path. The clock continued ticking.

"Madara."

"Yes, Mother?"

She was wearing a light blue and white sundress. An outfit I hadn't seen her wear in so long, I almost thought I was day dreaming. She looked down at me, brushing her dark brown hair over her shoulder as she addressed me.

"I understand." She told me. "...Why you're choosing to do what you are. Why you chose to do what you did. And I also understand why I'm the last person that should be allowed to tell you anything."

_That's right._

"...Because I wasn't there. And none of this would have happened to you if I _was_ there."

_Exactly._

"So, I'll bear loosing you... Because I never had possession over you."

_Not since you relinquished it after Taiga and Itsuya died._

"But that's _you._" She said, looking at me firmly. "You can go... And do whatever you want. It's your life to lead, your life to shape. But leave Izuna here."

The clock continued clicking. My ears ached and a reminiscent sound became present in my ears.

"_Clear."_

_Buzz._

"_Clear"_

_Buzz._

"_I... I don't think he's coming back, Doc."_

And then screaming. But that might've all been in my own head as far as I know.

"It's not your place to tell him what to do either." I said to her. "After all, you've already allowed him to become a criminal. If it wasn't for the sacrifices people made for him, you wouldn't even be able to claim your rights to him now."

"And you think your father is going to do any better with him!?"

Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.

I turned around, not responding to her.

"Goodbye, Mother."

"Madara, please!" She shouted at me.

I grasped the door knob, turning it and the sunlight poured into the dark house.

"Don't take him from me, please!"

I stepped out.

"If you do, I... I don't know what I'll do... I don't know..." She began to sob.

_Life... Is this way._

I closed the door firmly shut behind me.

_It's a battle between changing and staying the same. And neither is right. Neither is wrong._

My feet slowly made their way down our driveway, looking at the chips in the concrete and stone, realizing that I'd never walk the same path again.

_Both are just pointless. Because even if you don't change. The people around you will. So change... Is nothing more than an angelic devil._

I watched the birds fly... Remembering when that thought first came to my mind. When the ambulance came and took him to the nearest hospital.

"_TRY IT AGAIN!" I had shouted._

_The nurses scrambled, struggling to hold me back. And then the two operating doctors shook their heads over his body and one raised the sheet to cover his face and the other closed the door._

"_YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!"_

"_Calm down! It's over, kid! It's over!"_

"_LET ME GO!"_

And then I had decided that I would say when it was over.

It didn't take me long to find my feet on the tracks. Wearing the same Adidas Campus. The same brown, rusty path we took, simply to try to find something in the world to escape to. And somehow, we became that escape for each other and then...

"_Mito, NOOO!"_

It was all over.

"Madara!"

I turned, shielding my eyes against the burning sunlight as a figure came running up to me in the distance. I sighed, cocking my head slightly as the black haired boy's footsteps sounded along the tracks until he stopped in front of me, backpack on his shoulders.

"Madara, I'm coming with you."

Birds cawed. I watched as he rubbed the sweat off of his forehead. He must've been following me for a long time.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." He went on. "You can't leave me with Mom. She's sick. She's just going to relapse."

He breathed heavily, leaning over and putting his hands on his knees.

"And you think Father's going to take better care of you?"

He paused, then shook his head hard.

"Daddy only cares about the company." He looked me fully in the eyes. "He loves you because when everyone else passed, he thought you could be the one to make the company really stellar."

Then he paused, shaking his head.

"No... Daddy... He _always_ thought you would be the one. Even when we were little kids." Izuna confessed. "He knew that you weren't as shy as Itsuya or as simple minded as Taiga or as much of a pansy as Tsubasa or even as...as reckless as I am."

My mind shifted back to the memory of the last time I'd seen my Father and he said...

"_Unlike the other boys, you're different. I can see it in your eyes. You're ambitious, Madara. You're goal-driven. You have purpose. ...Just like me."_

"He knew you were the one with the brains and the strength to back it up." Izuna went on.

"_I know you'll change your mind..."_

I couldn't help but to smirk, just slightly.

_It looks like my dog of a Father was right about me. I'm a complete generation Xerox of him after all. _

"So where does that leave you?" I asked him.

"As your second." Izuna said quickly. "Daddy won't take care of me. He probably won't even put me in one of his big-shot, rich-boy schools... But I'll be with you."

He nodded, believing his words.

"Madara, I'm staying with you."

I slid my hands into the pockets of my light blue denim jeans, finding two things in either pocket, one was a book of matches, the other was a photograph. The collar of my black polo, which I'd popped, fluttered against my cheek as I looked down at the picture.

"...Ever since I lost him."

"_Get this kid outta here, he's going nuts!"_

"_LET ME GO! STOP IT!"_

"_Listen to me, kid! Stop! Listen!"_

"_HASHI!"_

"_He's gone, alright? He flatlined... That's it. It's over."_

"_...Flat Line...?"_

"But even before that." I said. "I...stopped caring."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Izuna... You might think I'm going on to be some kind of hero or something, but I'm not. I'm leaving because I'm a coward, just like our father..."

"_I can be your escape... You don't have to be stuck where you are."_

"And every single thing here. Every bird that flies over my head. Every sunrise. Every sunset. Every single thing here reminds me of _him_. And I can't even hear my own thoughts in my head anymore."

"_Ahh... Mada... This feels great."_

"It's just him... All the time." I admitted to him. "And there's... No room for you."

Izuna's eyes widened.

"I don't have the heart left to take care of you, Izuna."

"You're just still in mourning." Izuna protested. "After a few weeks, you'll-"

"Be gone." I interrupted him.

I stood aside allowing him to look past me toward where the train tracks led. On and on as far as the eye could see, into the horizon.

"The path I'm on...leads nowhere, Izuna." I told him. "And the brother that could protect you died in a construction site five days ago."

Izuna's bottom lip trembled. He gripped his fists, staring on at where I pointed.

"All that remains for me is the past." I explained to him. "But... _You_ have a future."

He looked up at me, tears beginning to spill.

I pointed past him, toward the city of Konoha. Toward his life.

"Go back and enjoy it."

He stood there for a while, rubbing his soaking eyes. The sunshine reflected in them as he watched me, probably waiting for me to take what I said back. But I wouldn't.

"Goodbye, Izuna."

Slowly, he nodded. But we stared at each other for a moment longer. Realizing, most likely, that for the first time in our lives we wouldn't be together every second of every day. But we turned away from each other anyway, walking in opposite directions. It wasn't like my ears were straining or anything but I was almost certain he said...

"I'll come find you one day."

_There will be nothing to find._

I was ready to let anything happen to the corpse walking around everyone saw as a body. My soul had already passed on. I walked on the metallic tracks for a while longer and paused, cutting the match on the board and creating a flame.

_There's only one person to say goodbye to now. _

I looked at the picture for a long time. Gazed at that smile. Felt a strong urge to feel his hair, graze his cheek, kiss his lips.

I held the flame to the photograph watching as it burned in my fingertips just as his body turned to ice in my arms. And I dropped it on the tracks.

"Goodbye... Hashi."

My Adidas continued on from that point. And they didn't pause. And I didn't turn back. But I was accompanied by a memory... Really, a memory of a memory... A premonition I'd had when I slept right after doing it with Hashirama. When I woke up, then it was like a dream I could only catch wisps of. But the longer I thought of it, the more it became clearer. I was standing or sitting or floating in a mess of whitish gold cloud-like space. And there was a voice. His voice. And he was speaking to me. And he said...

**Hashirama's Soul: Forever Together**

I'm dead but...it's actually, not too bad. You'd think dying would be this whole dramatic thing, right? Like your life flashing before your eyes and you remembering all the things you had to do and all the people you were supposed to meet and blah, blah, blah... Like, honestly, by the time you even reach the freaking pearly gates, that's the last thing on your mind. Speaking of the pearly gates, they aren't pearly. There aren't even gates. Everyone thinks going to limbo is like standing in line at the mall when they're giving out free samples and the lines backed up for miles like stand-still traffic with one line for the goodie two shoes and another line for the assholes.

'Cause I'm...you know, a queer and everything. I would've had to be in the other line in that circumstance. Just imagine it, right? You're standing there looking all small and frail and then some big dude is in front of you like "Yeah, I raped like five women" and some other crazy looking asshole is like "I cheated on all six of my wives" and then Hitler himself is standing next to you like "I killed six million freaking Jews... What are you in for?" And then you have to go about telling 'em that you gave head to this guy you loved and... Jesus, you can imagine, right? But luckily, it's not like those two lines and a front desk everyone thinks of where God stamps everyone either to heaven or hell. It's a lot more private.

When you meet him... Well... I probably shouldn't tell you all that but I do want you to know it's not bad. When you think of God, you think a court judge or the cool kid that picks what team everyone gets to be on in dodge ball at recess but... He talks to you alone and it's just you and him then you realize something. Life on Earth is literally a whole different dimension. It's almost like everything that ever happened in life is a completely different language. That's not to say all of the sins and stuff don't matter. They do. Just not in the same way everyone thinks. And God understands. He understands you more than you understand yourself. Honestly. There's nothing to fear about death at all. And God isn't ruthless or angry or even just depressed at you... I promise.

But before I forget, I want to thank you. Thanks...for being there with me at the end. Seeing the birds fly and the morning sky and your eyes while I died. Really... I can't even imagine having a luckier break. I would write you something in a will but the last I checked I was homeless, so...

Anyway... Here, I can meet you again. When you come here, if that's what you really want in your heart, I can meet you. But for now... I'm fine with just touring whatever world God makes up for me. Seas. Stars. Space. Sky. It's all here. So I'll wait. I'll wait forever. Because we swore to each other, right? That wherever there is to go... We'll go there...together.

**THE END...**

Author's Note: Yeah, I know. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Hahaha. Anyway, that's it for my HashixMada stories for a while. But I LOVED writing this one. I really kind of made it my own honestly. And it was a lot of fun. I hope you enjoyed it as well (save for that ending) and if you're wondering what else in the workshop, a WHOLE lot of NaruxSasu's, another canon ending for the actual story of Naruto and a requested story from one of my fans! So stick around! Love ya! ;)


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